A Change of Heart
by AnneM.Oliver
Summary: Draco Malfoy was tired of dating the same type of girl. Knowing he could get anyone he wanted, one day he saw Hermione Granger walking down the corridor of his office and he decided something... he decided he wanted her. He was up for the challenge and it would appear that so was she. All he had to do was buy her a book and all she had to do was change his heart.
1. 1 The Auction

**All characters belong to JK Rowling**

Summary: Draco Malfoy was tired of dating the same type of girl. He could get anyone he wanted. One day he saw Hermione Granger walking down the corridor of his office and he decided something. He decided he wanted her. He was up for the challenge, and it would appear that so was she.

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**A Change of Heart**

**By**

**Anne M**

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**Chapter 1 – The Auction:  
**  
The auction was due to start in less than thirty minutes, and Hermione Granger, who was overseeing the entire operation, knew she had a lot riding on the success or failure of this auction. She had been working for the public relations department of Gringotts Bank for two years now. She was up for a promotion; Assistant Director of Marketing and Public Relations. She knew that if this auction raised a lot of money, then the job was hers.

She was running around, making sure all loose ends were tied, and that everything was going as planned. She looked toward the front doors of the banquet hall just as her friends Harry and Ron entered. She ran up to them and gave them each a kiss hello, and told them to find their table, and that the auction would start soon. She reminded Harry to be sure to bid on the rare second edition "Hogwarts a History" that was donated by Draco Malfoy. Hermione desperately wanted that book, but she was obligated not to bid on any of the items in the auction, so she told Harry to bid on it for her. She didn't care how much she had to spend, she really wanted that book.

She was still making the rounds, talking to the wait staff, and the auctioneer, when Harry walked up to her with a glass of wine. "Drink up, Hermione. It looks like a smashing success so far." She took the wine from him and smiled.

"It's not really started yet, so we can't rush to judgment, Harry," she answered back.

"Don't be so modest, Granger, it doesn't become you," an unknown person behind her said. Even without looking, she could tell that dry drawl anywhere. She turned around to see a smirking Draco Malfoy.

"I'm not being modest, Malfoy, and what are you doing here anyway? I thought you sent back your invitation with an 'unable to attend'," she stated.

"Gee, Granger, no need to be rude. You at least could act happy that I'm here. After all, my company donated many items for this little auction," he drawled.

"As did many other companies, Mr. Malfoy," she answered back. She hurried away from the two men as the auctioneer waved at her, to get her attention.

"Miss Granger, we have a problem," the man said. He went on to explain that two of the items that were listed in the catalogue were suddenly missing. _'This can not be happening,'_ thought Hermione. One of the items was a rare artifact that was supposed to be worth hundreds of thousands of galleons. It was a small chalice, which was one of the items donated by Malfoy. The other item was a painting that was many centuries old, and had the likeness of two of the founders of Hogwarts on it. Again, this item was priceless, and donated by Malfoy. This was not good. In fact, this was really bad. If someone had stolen these items, Hermione would without a doubt be without a job by morning.

"I don't understand, Henry," Hermione moaned, "we inventoried all the items last night, and again this morning, and they were certainly here both times, and the room all the items were being kept in was well guarded."

"Listen, Miss Granger," Henry said, "my staff and I will take full responsibility for these items. They were here with all the other items just an hour ago when we brought everything down, so they couldn't have just gotten misplaced coming from the room down to the banquet hall. I have my assistants looking for them now, as well as security. I just thought you needed to know."

Hermione was visibly upset. She went out the back doors, to the alley behind the hotel, to see if anything was amiss. As soon as she walked out the door, she saw Malfoy, with his back to her, smoking a cigarette. She quickly turned to go back in the door, and the door was locked.

"The door locks from the inside apparently. I found that out when I came out to get some fresh air," Malfoy told her, as he threw his cigarette down on the ground.

"If you needed a spot of fresh air, why were you smoking?" Hermione asked.

"I wasn't aware that you were my mother now, Granger," he said smugly.

"How long have you been out here, Malfoy?" she asked him, ignoring his comment.

"Why, are keeping tabs on me, Granger?" he asked slyly.

"Just answer the question," she pleaded.

"About ten minutes, why?" He really wanted to know.

"Did you see anyone else out here? Anyone who looked suspicious? Anyone Apparating or Disapparating away?" Hermione implored.

"No, why?" He seemed curious.

"Oh, just that two of the most valuable items we have up for auction today seems to be missing. They were accounted for just an hour ago, and now they're gone. Do you know what this means, Malfoy? I'm going to lose my job!" she groaned desperately.

"What's missing?" Draco asked.

Oh no. Should she tell him it was two of the items his company donated? She wondered. "Oh, it doesn't really matter, now does it?" she said while wringing her hands.

"Well, as long as it wasn't any of the items I donated, I don't care," he laughed.

Her eyes became wide, and this must have given away her thoughts, because his became narrow, and he said, "Granger, it wasn't any of the items I donated, was it?"

She didn't know what to say, so she turned around and tried the door handle again, even though she knew they were locked. He put one of his hands over her hand on the door, and she whipped around to look at him. He asked again, "Tell me, Granger, were they the items I donated?"

"Malfoy, listen, it doesn't matter. I have to go. I have to find those items," she said, as she started running down the alleyway, toward the front of the hotel. She heard his footsteps running behind her. He caught her and spun her around before she left the alley.

"Listen, Granger, I'll have more than just your job, if any of those items were stolen," he warned her.

"If it's the last thing I do, Malfoy, I'll give you the money to pay for those items personally, whatever they're worth," she tried to tell him.

"You don't have that kind of money! What items were stolen?" Draco demanded.

He still had her arm in a death grip, and she looked at his hand on her arm and with wide eyes, she said quickly, "The chalice and the painting." Then she waited for the impending storm that was sure to follow.

Before Malfoy could say anything, Henry Reed, the auctioneer, came running up to them. "I've been searching for you everywhere! The items were found. Apparently, the head of security had place a shield charm on the more expensive items, and didn't tell anyone else about it. So sorry to cause you concern, Miss Granger. You should probably be heading in now."

Hermione actually sighed in relief. Then she noticed that Draco still had her arm. She looked up at him, looked at her arm, and felt a singe of electricity pass through her. "Let go of my arm, Malfoy," she said. He didn't realize he still had a hold of her either, and he let go of her arm so quickly, that one would have thought that he was shocked with electricity as well.

She ran back into the hall, with Malfoy right behind her. She said to him, "You should find your seat." He nodded and walked into the room.

Hermione started down the hall, toward the back entrance of the stage area. She thought about how angry Malfoy was about the possibility of the items he donated being stolen. Would he really have demanded that she lose her job? He was still a first class git, just like in school. The day her and her assistant went to solicit donations from his company, they met with his vice president, Theo Nott. At first they were told, 'no, they would not be able to help them.' Hermione told them that all the proceeds were going toward a scholarship fund, to help children who were orphaned during the war, to help them go on to University.

Nott, whom Hermione never especially liked during school, told her that Malfoy's Company had their own charities that they supported so 'thank you but no thank you'. As they were leaving, Hermione saw Draco himself get off the lifts. He walked right past her, and didn't even seem to recognize her. She didn't turn around, but unknown to her, he did. He turned around immediately, and thought, 'How do I know that girl?' He walked up to Theo and asked, "Who was that?"

"That was Hermione Granger. Remember, one third of the Golden Trio? The big war hero? 'The know it all of Hogwarts'?" Nott said.

"Yes, Yes, I remember her. What was she doing here?" Malfoy asked.

"She was here to solicit items for some auction that she's organizing for war orphans. Apparently she works for Gringotts now, and they're hosting the event."

"Did you donate anything?" Malfoy asked.

"Of course not," Theo said.

Malfoy looked back, but Hermione was long gone.

The next day a courier brought five very valuable items directly to Hermione's office, with a note saying that Malfoy donated them. She didn't know what had changed Theodore Nott's mind, but she was very grateful. Unknown to her, Malfoy had donated the items, not Theo Nott.

She stood on the side of the stage as the auction began. She looked out at the crowd, and smiled at Ron Weasley, as he waved to her. Draco looked from her over to him. He wondered if they were still an item. He remembered that they were back in school. His questions were answered for him when he saw some pretty girl with long blonde hair come up to the Weasel and then kiss him on the lips. He guessed they were just friends now. He looked up at Hermione from his table. He always thought she was somewhat pretty, in a Muggle-born sort of way. She looked beautiful tonight, though. Not as dressed up as some of the women here, but very pleasing to the eyes.

Draco looked over at this date, and thought, _'Why do I attract all the empty headed slags?'_ Then he remembered - It was because of all his money. Most of them were only interested in his money.

Hermione walked up to the stage area, and then went to the podium. "Welcome everyone. I'm so pleased everyone is here tonight. I won't make some long speech; I just wanted to thank everyone whom donated, and everyone who will bid! Let's start the auction." She stepped aside and the auction started.

Everything was going very well. They had already raised a lot of money, and the auction was only half over. It was the intermission, and Hermione went to sit down at the table with her friends. "Don't forget, Harry," Hermione reminded him, "the book is coming up next."

"I won't forget, Hermione," he promised with a smile.

She walked over to the bar. Draco Malfoy was heading to the bar as well. She slowed her steps so that he could catch up with her. She turned to face him. He looked quite dashing tonight. She always thought he was good looking. It was just his personality that was defective. He turned to stop and talk to someone, so not wanting to be obvious, she made her way on the bar. "A glass of red wine, please," she asked.

"Make that two," said the man behind her.

She turned to see Draco, standing dangerous close beside her.

"May I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"The drinks are free, Malfoy," she said, with a dry laugh.

"Well then, why don't you buy me a drink; the prices are more up your alley," he said back.

The bartender handed Hermione her drink and she had the uncontrollable urge to throw the wine in Malfoy's face, but she resisted temptation. Draco took his drink, and started walking beside Hermione. They both stopped by a large pillar.

"So, it seems you're raising a lot of money, Granger," he stated.

"Yes, it does seem to be going good. I just hope the last lot does as well," she said as she took a drink. She put the glass up to her mouth again, someone bumped her arm, and she spilled a little bit on her dress, right above her left breast. "Oh, bother," she cried.

Malfoy quickly took out his wand, touched the place on her dress where the wine stained the material, and removed all signs of the stain. Then, he touched the material with his index finger, where the stain had been, and said, "All dry."

She felt a tingle in her stomach when he touched her chest. It was an innocent enough touch. It wasn't intimate. Nonetheless, it shook her to her core, and she didn't like that, not one bit.

"Thanks," she said shyly. She was avoiding his eyes by scanning the room. He could tell. He did not know what in the world possessed him to touch her dress. He could tell it was dried, without touching her. He just felt compelled.

"Your date is giving us dirty looks." Hermione motioned toward Draco's table with her head. "Maybe you should get back."

"She can give us all the looks she wants, the damn slag," Draco said, as he took a large drink.

Hermione turned to him and said, "That's not nice thing to call your date."

"I'm just being truthful," he shrugged.

"Why date her, if you think so badly of her?" Hermione sincerely wanted to know.

"She's great in bed," Draco said with an evil grin.

"You're repugnant," Hermione replied. Draco laughed again. Just then, the 'slag' made her way over to where they stood.

"Draco, the auction is about to resume, come back to the table," the blonde told him, taking his arm, and looking Hermione up and down.

"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione held out her hand.

Her hand stayed uncomfortably in the air, because the blonde didn't seem inclined to accommodate Hermione's offer. Hermione left her hand in the air, as if to say, 'you're rude'**.** Draco finally put Hermione's hand down next to her body, and then turned to the blonde and said, "Go back to the table and stop embarrassing me, or leave. I don't care which of the two you do, just leave my sight."

The blonde huffed away, and went to the table.

The auction began again, and Hermione turned to Draco and said, "I have to go. You should go back and sit down now. Maybe I'll see you later." Then she smiled at him.

He took her glass from her, and glared at her retreating form. He might like to see her later.

After several more items were auctioned off, finally the time had arrived for the book to be auctioned. The auctioneer started the bidding at 1000 galleons. Hermione thought that was almost already out of her price range. Harry put his paddle up and bid the opening bid. She smiled at him and he winked back.

The smile and the wink were not lost on Draco. He noticed them both. So the little witch was having her friend bid on that book for her? Draco thought it would be fun to bid as well. Just to see what would happen. Draco raised his paddle and said, "2000 galleons." Harry looked at Hermione, she gave a little nod, and he bid 2100. Draco bid 2200. Harry bid 2300. Draco bid 3000. Harry looked at Hermione again, and she actually looked like she was in physical pain. She shook her head no, but he bid 3500 anyway. He decided that he would buy it for her.

Draco, who saw Hermione shake her head no toward Harry, wondered why Potter was still bidding. Draco bid 5000. Everyone in the hall turned to look at him. Hermione's mouth was opened. '_Take that, Potter_,' Draco thought.

Harry stood up and said, "10,000 galleons." Hermione actually shouted, "NO!"

Draco stood as well, and said, "Let's get this over with, Potter. I bid 30,000 galleons. You might as well give up, because I can go much higher."

Harry didn't like to back down from a threat, especially one by Malfoy, and he said, "Don't underestimate me, Malfoy. It would be a mistake," and then he turned to the auctioneer and said, "50,000." There was an audible gasp from everyone in the room.

Hermione ran down to Harry's table and said, "Stop." He wouldn't even look at her. He was glaring at Draco. She turned to walk over to Draco's table, and said in a whisper, "Why are you bidding on your own item?"

"Because it's so much fun to take something that Potter so evidently wants," he said to her with a hiss.

"Harry's bidding on that for me. I wanted the book, but it's not worth this. Please stop, Malfoy." She put her hand on his arm.

He looked down at her hand, then back up into her brown eyes, which were pleading with him. He heard the auctioneer say, "Going to Mr. Potter for 50,000 galleons. Going once, going twice…"

"One million galleons," Draco announced loudly. He shook his arm from her hand. He felt like it was melting his skin.

Harry sat down and actually grinned. Just making Malfoy spend all that money was reward enough for him. "Well, by golly, it's for a good cause. You can have the darn book, Malfoy." Everyone applauded, and the auctioneer hit his gavel on the podium.

When the evening was over, they had raised over five million galleons. Hermione couldn't believe it. It was more than she had imagined. Her friends had all left, so Hermione sat down at one of the now empty tables and slipped her shoes off, to rest her tired feet. The staff of the hotel was beginning to clean up the hall. The auctioneer and his staff were finishing up as well, taking everyone's checks and handing over their items.

Draco walked over to get the book that he had bid one million galleons to obtain. He couldn't believe he paid that much for a book he had donated. What an idiot. And in the end, Potter didn't care and even took it in stride. Damn Scarhead. He walked up to Hermione, who by this time had her head on her arms, on top of the table. He chucked the book on the table, where it landed next to her head.

She sat up quickly and said, "You scared me, Malfoy," and then she saw the book and said, "It's really quite a rare find, you know." She picked up the book, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. She caressed the spine, and the cover. She gently opened the pages, and let her fingertips lightly touch a few. Draco Malfoy wished he was that book right now.

She stood up, and tried to hand the book back to him. He didn't take it from her so she put it gently back down on the table. She bent down to try to find her shoes. One was kicked under the table. She had to get down on her knees to retrieve her shoe. She tried to stand back up, but her long dress got in her way. In her haste to right the situation, she landed on her bum hard on the marble floor. The shoe was still under the table.

"Are you drunk?" Draco eyed her suspiciously. He was actually amused by her actions.

"No, just extremely tired," she offered sincerely. "Could you crawl under the table and get my shoe?" she asked.

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her as if she were crazy. Did she really think Draco Malfoy would crawl on the floor under a table? For her?

When he didn't move, or say anything, she sighed and tried to bend back over to pick up her shoe. She was still sitting on the floor. She leaned over as far as she could, and when her head and upper torso were practically completely under the table, she saw him get on his hands and knees, and meet her halfway under the table. They both reached for the shoe at the same time, and their hands touched. She quickly withdrew her hand. She sat back up. He took her shoe, stood up, put it on the table, and then walked around to the other side of the table where she was still sitting on the floor.

He offered his hands to her, and she put her hands in his. He gave a gentle tug, and pulled her to her feet. She sat back on a chair, and put on her first shoe. She reached for the one on the table, but he was faster. He took the shoe he had rescued, and kneeled before her chair. He took her slender leg in his hand. He grasped it behind the knee, and then ran his hand down the back of her calf. She thought she would die from his touch.

He took the shoe, and placed it on her foot. "There you go, Cinderella," he said with a chuckle. He stayed down on the floor for a moment longer. He went to stand up, placing his hand on her knee for support. He was standing, and she was still sitting, but they had yet to look away from each other. Her mouth felt incredibly dry.

"What happened to the slag?" Hermione tried to say lightly, finally finding the courage to stand. When she stood, he didn't move away, so they stood almost nose-to-nose.

"I've decided something, Granger," he told her; she could feel his breath on her cheek. "I'm not dating slags anymore."

"Oh?" she asked. She was suddenly very hot. He leaned closer to her, and put his mouth against her ear. He moved her hair back with his hand, lightly brushing her cheek as he did.

Then, with his lips touching her earlobe, he whispered in her ear. "I have a new conquest in my sights."

She tried to face him, but his hot breath was still on her neck, and if she turned her face, they would be very close indeed. Instead, she did something that shocked even her. She got on her tiptoes, leaned into him, put one hand on his chest, and the other she cupped his ear, and whispered back to him, "This new conquest might not be easy to conquer."

He swiftly put his arms around her waist, and then without asking for permission, he kissed her mouth. She felt a pull down in the deep recesses of her body. She felt the tingle and the excitement that someone feels when someone they really like kisses them for the first time.

The kiss was over in a couple of seconds. It was not a deep kiss, but it had deep meaning. He lifted his lips from her and said, "I'm up for the challenge, Granger. Are you?" He let her go, and started to walk away.

She was momentarily stunned, and she spun around to watch him leave, and saw he left his book on the table. "Your book!" she called after him.

"Oh, I don't want the damn thing. Why do you think I donated it in the first place? Just throw it away, or take it home with you. I don't care," he said from the doorway. He raised his hand to tell her goodbye, and walked back out the door.

She sat back down and picked up the book. She would take it home for tonight; after all, it was quite valuable. She would go see him first thing Monday morning and give it back to him.


	2. 2 The Misunderstanding

**All characters belong to JK Rowling**

**Chapter 2- The Misunderstanding:**

The expectation of Monday morning loomed large over Hermione all weekend. She was full of anticipation, certain she was going to get that promotion. The auction had such wonderful results, with the help of Draco's generous bid on the book. Thinking of the book, she would definitely have to return it. In fact, she was even looking forward to returning the book.

She walked into Gringotts with a spring in her step. The thought of the job of her dreams made her smile. She was sure she was smiling for other reasons as well. Draco Malfoy flirted with her last night. More than flirted. He kissed her. Everything that happened was all so insane! The mouth that had called her Mudblood more times than she could count, and taunted her all those years, was now the same mouth that kissed her last night.

She walked in her office, and saw her assistant, and said with a smile, "Hello, Gail."

"Hermione, you need to go to Mr. Moss' office immediately. There's some kind of problem about Saturday night's auction," Gail told her, taking her coat and satchel.

Hermione wasn't concerned. What kind of problem could there be regarding the auction? They raised over five million galleons last night. Everything went very smoothly. Hermione wasn't worried. Maybe Gail was confused. Maybe Mr. Moss actually had good news to tell her. Maybe he wanted to go ahead and offer her the job. Why delay?

She walked into his office without knocking on the door. Mr. Moss was talking to Theodore Nott as she entered. He told Hermione to have a seat.

Hermione didn't like the serious tone that was in his voice. She sat down as asked him, "Did you hear about the wonderful success we had Saturday night at the auction?"

Theodore Nott rolled his eyes, and sat down as well. Mr. Moss went around to the other side of his desk. "Yes, yes, I heard you raised a great deal of money. That's what we need to talk about. Mr. Nott here works for Draco Malfoy, as I'm sure you know."

"Just get to the point man!" Nott yelled.

"Who gave you the items, Hermione? The items you claim were donated by Draco Malfoy," Mr. Moss asked her.

"I don't know, they were dropped off by courier, and delivered to my office." Hermione seemed confused. She looked at one man, then the other.

"Was there any paperwork with them?" her boss asked.

"Just a note saying that they were donated by Malfoy, why?" Hermione was getting nervous now.

"Mr. Nott claims that when you came to solicit donations, he told you they wouldn't be able to accommodate you," Mr. Moss relayed, getting out of his seat, and coming around to stand in front of her chair.

"I'm well aware of that," she said, also standing.

"Damn it all to hell woman!" Theodore Nott yelled, "Who gave you those items? On whose authority did you put them up for auction?"

"I don't understand." Hermione was so very confused. "Why are you asking these questions?"

"I told you we had nothing to donate, Granger," Theo seethed, now standing with the other two.

"I know," she snapped.

"Well, imagine my surprise when I read in the morning edition of _The Prophet_that Malfoy donated five items to you, one in which raised a million galleons, by itself," Nott replied.

"Yes, but…" Hermione started.

"Who gave you those items?" Nott interrogated.

"I told you, they were sent to me, but…" Hermione tried again, angry.

"BY WHOM?" Nott bellowed at her.

"I told you, I don't know, but…." Hermione stammered, yet was interrupted again.

"Do you expect me to believe that someone, you don't know who, just gave you five very valuable items? And you have no proof that they were not stolen. Is that what you expect us to believe?" Theodore said with a red face.

"Why would I lie? Just listen to me, Draco was there…" Hermione got no further before she was cut off once again.

"See Moss, I told you. I'll expect a check reimbursing us for the amounts I listed by the end of the day," Nott said to Moss.

"JUST LISTEN TO ME!" Hermione yelled, "Give me a chance to talk!"

"Hermione, what do you have to say?" Mr. Moss asked steadily. He didn't particularly like this Nott fellow trying to bully everyone in the room, and he trusted Hermione. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

Hermione was shaking all over and close to tears. She was so angry. "Draco Malfoy was there last night, at the auction. He even acknowledge that he donated the items, because we thought some were missing last night, and well, that's beside the point. The point is that he was aware that those items were donated to us. Go talk to him Nott. He's even the one that bid on the book!" Hermione shouted.

"You expect me to believe Draco Malfoy bid on a book that you claim he himself donated? Why would he do that? If I know Malfoy, which I do, I know he would never throw money away, and your stupid little charity would definitely be throwing money away," Nott harped to her in a condensing tone.

"Our charity is not stupid!" Hermione shouted. "Furthermore, if you seriously think I stole those items, or took them in a dubious manner, then you give me your proof! Have me arrested!"

"Hermione, calm down," her boss told her, "and just show us the letter from Malfoy acknowledging the donation."

"I don't have anything from him! I told you!" she yelled again.

"I'm done with this," Nott said as he started to leave. "All charitable donations go through me, and I certainly didn't approve for these items to be donated. Here's the appraisal value for each item taken. I would appreciate the check by the end of the day, as I mentioned earlier. Goodbye." He walked out the office and slammed the door.

"This isn't good, Hermione," Moss told her. "How could you not get some type of paperwork for the donated items?"

"I'll go to Malfoy. I'll get this all sorted out. By the way, how much money do they want for the items?" Hermione asked.

He handed her the appraisal. The total was half a million galleons. "This is preposterous!" Hermione exclaimed, "That's one sixth of what we raised, and those were only five of the hundreds of items we had for bid."

"But the book went for a million," Mr. Moss pointed out, sitting down and rubbing his temples with his fingers.

"Yes, but its appraisal value would be nowhere near that," Hermione also pointed out.

"Then why would Malfoy pay that much?" Moss asked.

That was a very good question. One in which Hermione had no answer. When she didn't respond, her boss told her if she couldn't get something in writing from Malfoy himself saying that he donated the items that were auctioned on Saturday, then he would have no choice - she would be fired. There was no other way.

"Just get me some proof," her boss finally said, "I don't want to fire you."

"I don't know if I can get proof, but I do know I don't want to lose my job," Hermione replied in return.

"Get me something in the next two hours, or I'll need to go to the board, and get them to give me a check to give to Mr. Nott." He stood up and opened his door for her to leave.

She ran to her office and grabbed her coat and bag. How could this be happening? Her day started so wonderful and it turned so very horrible! She walked out of Gringotts, to cross the street that would lead her to the office building where Malfoy worked. His offices were in a large building just two blocks away. She was devastated. This morning she thought she was going to get a promotion, and now she might lose her job instead. She went directly to his offices, which were the entire seventh floor of the building. She left the lifts and went up to reception area.

"I need to see Draco Malfoy," she said.

"May I ask who you are?" the snotty little receptionist asked.

"My name is Hermione Granger, and I need to see Malfoy this instant!" She banged on the counter, for affect.

At that precise moment, Theodore Nott, (the stupid wanker), came out of an office and said, "Call Security to remove this lady from the premises."

Hermione glared at Nott, and then she shouldered past him and started opening every door she could see. "Malfoy?" she screamed. She opened another door. "Malfoy, where are you?" She opened yet another door. "Malfoy, you stupid prat, where the hell are you?" She opened a third door. Hermione could see two security wizards coming toward her with their wands out.

She ran toward a set of double doors. She entered this room before the security wizards got to her. As she rushed in the door, she saw Draco Malfoy, at the head of a large conference table, with as many as fifteen other witches and wizards, all staring at her intently. "What do you want, Granger?" Malfoy asked with surprise.

"I need to talk to you now!" she screeched. She came up to him and added, "What are you trying to pull? Was this whole thing an elaborate plan to get me fired?" Then she reached in her bag and pulled out the book. She threw it on the table. "Here's your bloody book back!"

"What's wrong with you? Are you going insane? I'm in the middle of a very important meeting. And I don't want that book back!" Draco took her arm and pulled her to the side as he said this to her.

"Yes, well, my job and my whole reputation is on the line!" she hissed.

"What are you going on about, Granger?" He threw his hands up in the air, confused by her words and actions. Just then, the security wizards came in, followed by Theo Nott.

"We'll take care of her, Malfoy. You go on with your meeting," Nott told him as the men started physically pulling Hermione out of the room.

"Malfoy, you prat! Why did you do this to me?" she yelled as she was being pulled down the hall.

Draco looked at all the people in the conference room, smiled at them so sweetly that his smile would melt butter, and said, "Please excuse me for a moment. Mr. Jenkins will take over for me while I'm gone." He left the room, with full composure. Then, when he was clear of the room, he ran like a bat out of hell.

He got to the reception area, and asked the receptionist, "Where did they take the crazy lady?" She pointed to the lifts. He took the stairs.

He was out of breath when he got to the bottom of the stairs. He got there just as he heard the bell ring. He saw Theo Nott, and the two security people bringing Hermione out to the lobby. They had her magically bound and gagged. She looked angrier than he had ever seen her.

He told them to let her go. They did. She turned on them all and drew out her wand. "How dare you use magic against me!" she yelled at them.

"Granger, shut up for a moment! You're embarrassing yourself!" Draco scolded.

"You're the one who should be embarrassed, Malfoy!" she spat. "You act all self-righteous, and you want me to think you've changed. You pretend you want to help orphans by donating items for my auction, and then you send that arse-hole Nott to my boss to tell him that you never donated anything to me, and that I got those items in some illegal fashion!"

Malfoy was still confused. He looked at her, and could only say one thing: "What?"

Theodore told Draco, "She's delusional. Let me call the wizard police."

"You know what, you three, just go." Malfoy pointed toward the three men. "You," he said, pointing at Hermione, "sit down and please explain to me why you're angry, and do so without cursing, hexing, hitting or biting."

"Three of those things I haven't even done yet!" she pointed out.

"But, you're capable of all four, so I'm just covering my bases," he said as he pointed toward a chair. She sat down slowly, out of breath, which so was he.

When she could breath again she started, "Who donated those items for the auction?"

"I did," he said plainly.

"Did Nott know about them?" she asked.

"No, he wasn't going to donate anything, but I'm the boss, and I do what I want. I wanted to help your charity, so I donated the items," he explained to her.

She openly sighed. "Then will you please go tell my boss as much, before I lose my job," she asked, hanging her head, feeling defeated. Then she told him the entire story. He laughed. She didn't see anything amusing in the situation.

"I'll go over there when my meeting's over," he said to placate her.

"No, now!" she demanded, while standing with her hands on her hips, "or I'll lose my job!"

"I don't see the sense of your boss giving you a certain time to get him proof. I'll go when my meeting's over, or not at all," he said in a steady voice, which hid his real emotions. He wanted to strangle her at the moment. He could care less about her bloody job.

"I'll lose my job by then," Hermione said with a pout.

"What difference do a few hours make?" Draco retorted.

"You know what, never mind. You were a selfish, self-centered, son of a bitch, when we were young, and you still are. You haven't changed, so I'm not disappointed. Goodbye, Malfoy. I hope I never see you again as long as I live," she said dramatically, and turned and walked away.

He caught up with her outside. "Don't walk away from me," Draco hissed, "and how dare you embarrass me like that."

"How dare you stand there and take up my breathing space!" she said back smartly.

It had just starting to rain. The late morning sky was darker than it should have been, due to the impending storm that was brewing. There was a storm brewing inside Hermione Granger, but it was nothing equal to the storm brewing inside Draco Malfoy. He tried to drag her back forcibly, into the building. She kicked his shin. He cursed and kicked hers. She yelped in pain.

She started limping away, claiming defeat when he called out, "Please, come back here. Just be calm and wait for me to finish my damn meeting and then we'll both go over to Gringotts."

She turned to look at him from the side of the road. The rain was pouring all around her, matting her curly hair to her face. "It's not important," she said softly. The rain was now falling hard and they were both getting soaking wet.

"Come back in the building. Let me finish my meeting. It's very important. Then I promise to go back with you, I promise," he reiterated.

He walked over to her and took her arm. She pulled her arm out of his grip and started running across the rain soaked street. Just as she left the curb, she fell in a large pothole, which was now a large puddle. She stayed on the ground for a moment, dazed and embarrassed. She looked up to see a rather large carriage coming straight for her. She only had time to scream. Thank goodness, Draco had time to reach down, pick her up, and deposit her back on the sidewalk.

She was standing in his arms, breathing hard, out of fear of the imminent accident that he had just helped her evade, and from defeat of the fight. He was also out of breath, but for reasons so different than hers. He let go of her arms. They stood, with rain falling all around them, and stared at each other for many long, agonizing moments.

Then Draco ruined it all by being a prat when he said, "You could say, thank you."

"You could fall and crack your head open and die," she said with spite.

"You're such a bitch! I don't know what I saw in you!" he screamed. "Also, I'm getting soaking wet because of you!"

Just at that exact moment, a loud clap of thunder sounded over their heads, which sounded like a gun shot in the night. She screamed, not completely aware what the loud noise was, (and still upset by almost being run over by a carriage) and fell back into his arms. His arms went around her tight, almost out of instinct. She looked up into his face, and he peered back down into hers. Time seemed to stand still. He was as shocked by her action as she was by his.

Because there he was, in the rain, with thunder and lightning going off all around them, and Hermione Granger was in his arms. If Draco ever had a more surreal experience in his life, he couldn't remember when it was.

Sensing his unease, and being embarrassed herself, she jumped back away from him. She was breathing harder than ever. He reached for her face, for reasons he knew not, but before he could touch her cheek she ran from his grasp. He watched her figure retreating in the rain.

She didn't go back to work. She figured she had no reason to since Malfoy wouldn't go straighten the entire thing incident out with her boss. She was going to be fired. She went to a coffee house on the corner, around from the bank, and tried to dry off. She could have used magic to dry off, but was too defeated even to care. She ordered a large coffee, sat in the corner, and decided to sulk for a while.

About an hour later, with her clothes and hair finally dried, (with the help of magic after all), and with the rain now abated, she decided to go back to her little house. She needed to think about some things. Tomorrow, she would start looking for another job. There were plenty of opportunities for a smart witch like her.

She threw some money on the table and got up to leave, when her attention was automatically drawn to the bell over the door. Draco Malfoy came in and noticed her immediately.

He motioned to her, with a little lift of his hand. She sat back down. "Why didn't you just calmly explain everything to me, Granger?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"Did you see Mr. Moss?" she asked instead of answering his question.

"Yes," Draco began, "and he told me to tell you he expects you at work first thing tomorrow morning. If you had told me he had given you a time restraint, I'd have gone with you right away."

"I thought I did tell you," she responded sharply, then said, "but, you wouldn't have done it anyway."

"Don't tell me what I would, or wouldn't do, please." He was too tired to fight with her again. "I also fired Nott. I don't like people assuming they know what I do or do not want. He had no right to act on my part, either by refusing your original request, or by going to the bank today, with that ridiculous request." Then he pulled something out of his coat pocket. It was the book. That damn book. "Here, I really want you to have this."

She looked at the book and said, "Why don't you give it to another charity. There are plenty of poor people out there, with various needs, since you're so philanthropic these days." She pushed the book back toward him.

"What do you really know about poor people, Granger?" he laughed, though he was not amused.

"A slight more than you, Malfoy, I sure," she returned with an air of arrogance. "You probably pass by them on the street without even a backwards glance."

"Oh please," Draco smirked, "what do you know of the world, Granger? Just go home to your safe little house, in your safe little neighbourhood, where everything is black and white and there's no shades of grey."

She stood up, and leaned in closer to him. "Listen to me, Malfoy, for I'll only say this once. Don't talk to me ever again. Don't look at me. If you're in the same room as me, then turn around and walk away." Then she picked up the book and dumped it in the trash bin. "That's what I think of you and your money, and if you see Mr. Moss, tell him to take my old job and stuff it up his arse." She picked up her bag and coat, and left the coffee shop.

He watched her retreating figure walk out the door. He went and got the book out of the trash. He was going to get it gift wrapped, and send it to her, just to bug the hell out of her. He smiled and left the coffee shop, and walked in the opposite direction.


	3. 3 The Intentions

**All characters belong to JK Rowling**

**Chapter 3: The Intentions -  
**  
Hermione was in a very good mood the next morning, all things considering. She was going to view everything that happened yesterday as a positive. Yesterday started with her looking forward to a promotion, and to her having a slight, almost insignificant, crush on Draco Malfoy. The day ended, with her being unemployed, and with her hating Draco Malfoy with a passion. These things didn't worry her in the least. She had been unemployed before, and she had certainly hated Draco Malfoy before. She was a survival. She had survived Voldemort. She would survive this. And today was a new day!

She looked at her clock, and saw that it is almost 7:30 am, the time she would normally get up for work. She might as well go ahead and get up and get showered, even if she didn't have a job to go to today.

She showered and got dressed. Just because she wasn't going to work, didn't mean she shouldn't dress professionally today. She put on a very pretty skirt and blouse. She thought she might as well fix her hair and makeup as well. She wanted to look nice, even if she was unemployed.

She ate some porridge and drank some juice, afterall, a girl still needed breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day! By the time she was finished it was almost 8:30 am. She would usually leave for work at 8:30 am. She might as well take a walk. She had nothing better to do.

Somehow, she found herself at Gringotts. That was curious. Oh well, it wouldn't hurt to go on up to her old office. She needed to clear out her desk and things.

Come to think of it, she never really quit, after all; and Mr. Moss hadn't actually fired her yet. Maybe he wouldn't fire her. Perhaps, since she was all dressed and ready for work, she should just go on up to her office and pretend nothing was amiss. He might change his mind. He might not fire her. The only thing that could ruin her plan was if Draco Malfoy took her advice when she told him to tell Mr. Moss to take her job and shove it up his arse. That made her smile. There was no way Draco would really come and tell Mr. Moss such a thing. Hermione could perhaps do some damage control, and she might not lose her job. This could all still work in her favour.

She entered her office and saw her assistant sitting at her desk, talking enthusiastically with the one person who could ruin Hermione's chance at not losing her job. Draco Malfoy. She rolled back her shoulders, walked in the office, and said, "Hello, Gail, do you know if Mr. Moss is in yet?" She decided to ignore Malfoy's presence so she didn't greet him at all.

"He's not. Mr. Malfoy is waiting for him as well," her assistant said.

Draco turned from his position on Gail's desk, smiled at Hermione, and winked at her. Hermione walked over to him, and threw her coat directly over his head, as if he were a coat rack. He continued to sit there, with her coat on his head, swinging his legs back and forth. _'What…an…idiot,'_ Hermione thought. "Tell me the moment he gets in, please," Hermione said, and she left the outer office to enter her own.

Draco followed. He at least had removed her coat from his head. He threw the coat over a chair, and was now sitting on HER desk. Deciding to continue to ignore him, she sat down in her chair, and started looking through some papers, to try to look busy.

"Your assistant is a lovely girl," he finally spoke.

"She's married," Hermione said, lying for some reason.

"I don't want to marry her; I just said she was lovely. It's no different than if I said, 'you have curly hair.' It's just a statement of fact," he goaded.

"You'd better not have been flirting with her," Hermione scolded, standing up and going over to her filing cabinet.

"I don't flirt," he said, hardly able to contain his laughter. She looked at him with an incredulous look, and he said, "Okay, I flirt sometimes, but always with the best of intentions."

"Oh, and what would those intentions be?" she asked him, as she turned to face him.

"Depends on with whom I'm flirting," he said, seriously. "For instance, when I flirt with you, I can assure you my intentions are less than honourable." He winked again.

"Why are you here?" It finally dawned on Hermione to ask.

"I'm here to deliver your message to Mr. Moss. I just want to make sure I have it right first...wasn't it something about sticking your job up his something or other...hmm...I can't recall verbatim, but I'm sure when I'm standing there in front of him, it'll all come back to me." He turned around on her desk, and was now sitting facing her.

"Get off my desk, please," she asked, rolling her eyes. She decided to change the subject. She hoped he was kidding about talking to Moss.

Draco started to whistle. Hermione had never trusted anyone who whistled. It was one of her rules. It might have something to do with the fact that she couldn't whistle. She had never analyzed it before, but it was a steadfast rule, nonetheless.

"Stop whistling, please, I don't like it." She took a step closer, and demanded, "And please, remove your person from my desk."

"Come here," he asked, wiggling his index finger, in an indication that he wanted her closer.

"No," she said smartly.

"Please, come here," he said with a sigh.

"I'm close enough," she complained.

"No, I need you closer," he said, with a lopsided grin.

"No," she said again, less convincing this time.

"COME HERE!" he demanded sharply, pointing his finger directly in front of him.

"NO!" she shouted back.

"Hermione, if I have to get off this desk, you'll be sorry, you little witch," Draco said slyly.

She ignored him. She backed farther away.

"Either come here now," he said steadily, "or I really do tell Mr. Moss that you want him to take your job and shove it up his arse."

"Must you resort to blackmail?" she fumed.

"Yes, it seems appropriate at this juncture of our relationship," he lectured. He started to do that irritating little thing with his finger again, motioning her to come closer. She obeyed and slowly walked closer. When she was about an arm's length from him, he said, "One more step should do it, either that or I start whistling again."

She took one more step, and was shocked when he jumped off the desk and landed almost directly in front of her. She almost fell backwards, and in fact, would have, if he hadn't reached around her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

She leaned away, and placed both hands on his chest. "You're so juvenile," she complained.

"But, I got you to come closer," he said with a smile.

"Yes, fine, I'm closer, you win, and you have me in your evil clutches, now will you let me go, or shall I scream?" she asked, trying to remain calm. Her reality was much different. She felt short of breath, and she had that same little tingling feeling that started behind her navel, and went all the way down to her toes. If he kissed her right now, she might truly melt into the carpet.

He put one hand on her forehead. "You seem flushed. Do you have a fever, or is it me?" he asked, almost silently. His hand traveled from her forehead, to her cheek. He then put it on her neck. "Yes, rapid pulse, you may be getting sick." Then he put his hand flat on her chest, above her left breast.

Her heart was beating so fast, she felt it would surely come out of her chest and explode.

"Your heart rate is rapid. Tell me, Hermione, what's the cause of this sudden, rapid heartbeat?" Without really wanting an answer, which was good because she couldn't speak, he leaned his face toward hers and kissed her full and sensually on the lips. He played with her lips for a moment. Not parting them, but not really a closed mouth kiss either. He put his lips on her cheek, and said, "Definitely, you have a fever. You're very hot." He wiggled his eyebrows, because of the double meaning of that statement, and then he put his lips on her other cheek, and her legs buckled.

That strange tingling was back, but now it was in a very different place. He tightened his arms around her, to support her weight, and put his lips on her pulse point. He kissed it, and then sucked. "Rapid...rapid...pulse," he said with labored breathing. He kissed her chest, above the opening of her blouse. "Heart rate is still irregular," he murmured.

She finally found her voice, and said, "Maybe I'm contagious. It seems you're having trouble breathing, and your pulse is rapid as well." She was out of breath. He looked at her, smiled and put his lips back on hers. She closed her eyes and gave in to the feeling.

"Yes, you're contagious," he said, as he finally let her go. "I fear you're completely, and utterly contagious. Oh, and you can open your eyes now." He still had her by the waist, but not flushed up against his body. Gail knocked on the door; thank goodness she didn't come in, and said, "Mr. Moss is here."

Hermione opened her eyes, backed away, and straightened her clothes. She truly was flushed now. "I have to go see Mr. Moss," she said.

"So do I," he said to her.

"Why?" She was concerned.

"I have to talk to him," he stated sincerely.

Hermione turned to leave the office, and he followed. He walked about a step behind her the entire way to Mr. Moss' office. Hermione turned to him when they almost reach his door, and she actually pushed him up against the wall, and held the collar of his jacket. "Listen, Malfoy, do not embarrass me at my place of employment."

He looked at her hands on this jacket, laughed, and said, "Like you embarrassed me at mine?"

"Please, Draco," she said, still holding his jacket.

He pushed her hands away, and said, "Oh, by all means, call me Draco, instead of Malfoy. See if you can manipulate me by suddenly being all sweet," he mocked her.

She gave up. She started to walk away, toward the other direction. He called to her, and she turned back to him and said, "Tell him whatever you want. I give up."

He reached for her arm, and said, "Don't give up so easily. You might yet be able to convince me."

"I don't care anymore," she said sadly. She did look sad. Draco felt some remorse. Not a lot, but some.

"Stop being so dramatic," he mocked. "It just so happens I have a meeting with him this morning." He took her hand and continued back down the hall with her.

"Then where are you taking me?" she asked.

"I'm taking you to my lair to have mad passionate sex with you," he said quickly.

She came to a complete stop, and asked, "What?"

"I said, I have a meeting with him, and so do you," he answered.

"That's not what you said," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

He imitated her, crossed his arms over his chest, and inquired, "All right, Miss Smarty Pants, what did I say."

"Something about a lair and sex," she responded, cocking one eyebrow.

"Scandalous, Granger," he said with mock surprise. "Clean out your ears, and get your mind out of the gutter." He opened the door to Mr. Moss' office and walked in, leaving her standing in the hallway.

She decided it was going to be a long day.

The meeting with Mr. Moss went well. He apologized to Hermione about not trusting her. He told her Draco came and cleared up everything and that he didn't even have to go to the Board. Then he even went ahead and offered her the promotion, which she readily accepted.

"Good thing you offered her that promotion," Draco told the man. "I have a Vice President position open, after firing Nott, and I was hoping to steal her away from you."

"Well, yes, good thing, then," Mr. Moss agreed. "I have another meeting with the Board in ten minutes. Why don't you explain to Hermione why you're here Draco?" With that, Mr. Moss left his office.

Hermione leaned closer to Draco's chair, after Moss left the room, and said, "Were you really going to offer me Nott's job?"

"Of course I wasn't," Draco laughed, "you're no where near qualified, although, I wouldn't have minded you being under me, if you catch my meaning." He wiggled his eyebrows again. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust.

"I wouldn't have worked for you anyway. I'm sure I would have to sue you for sexual harassment the very first day," Hermione joked.

"Not just the first day, but every day afterwards as well, but actually, no one's sued me yet, and not for lack of trying," he joked back.

She decided to ignore his jokes (hoping they WERE jokes). "So, tell me," Hermione began, "what's the real reason you're here?"

Draco started, "My company, along with your bank, is hosting a Spring Gala to raise money for a new wing at St. Mungo's hospital. We'll co-sponsor the event, and you'll plan the whole thing. The theme, the ticket prices, the guest list, the entertainment, the whole bloody thing."

Hermione nodded her head up and down, excited, and agreed, "I can do that. I'll start my team on it right away. We'll come up with a preliminary report, and projected budgets, and I'll meet with you with all the details, including possible dates and venues by next week. My assistant will set up a meeting with your assistant."

Draco smiled. He was actually quite impressed with her. Then, out of the blue, he said, "Let's go to lunch."

"May I say something?" she interjected.

"If I say no, you still will, so go on." He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

"My job is very important to me. I take it quite seriously. It's the most important part of my life right now, especially this new job, which I've been wanting forever. Therefore, I think we need to keep our professional relationship, professional, and our personal relationship, well, personal," she explained.

"Now let me say one thing," he leaned closer. "No. On second thought, let me say two things: One, the fact that your job's the most important thing in your life is a little sad, and I hope to remedy that right away. Two, I agree, we must stay professional at work."

"And our personal relationship?" she interjected.

"Pardon?" He leaned even closer.

"I said what about our personal relationship?" she asked again.

"That's personal. I can't tell you that," he joked. Her face fell. She didn't appreciate his sense of humour. He stood up, and pulled her up as well. "Our personal relationship, if that's what you would call what we have, will at all times, stay outside of the work place."

"Can you really adhere to that?" she asked.

"Can you?" he inquired of her.

"I'm not the one sitting on people's desks and kissing them in their office," she complained.

"I wasn't kissing myself, sweetheart. Someone else was there, whether that person wants to acknowledge that or not," he said, almost in a defeated attitude.

Hermione started blushing. He pulled her closer, and said, "I know this is your work, but may I ask one last personal thing?" She took a deep breath. Her blush was leaving her face, and traveling down her body. He had both her hands, and he pulled them up to his lips, and kissed her fingertips. He turned one of her hands, palm side, to his mouth, and then kissed her palm. He then gave her palm a quick little lick with his tongue. Then he rubbed her palm with his thumb. That gesture was as erotic to Hermione as any of her previous sexual encounters were.

"Malfoy?" she said, hoarsely.

"Yes," he purred.

"What did you want to say?"

"Do you even consider us as having a personal relationship?" he asked her almost hesitantly.

"I thought we were beginning to have one, at least, I had hoped so," she said honestly.

He let her go, and said, "Get those reports to me as soon as you can, and have your assistant set up that meeting," and he started to walk away.

Hermione thought, _'What the hell?'_

He turned back around and said, "Meet me at Diagon Alley, 1:00 o'clock, for lunch."

"Is this a business lunch?" she asked, truly confused.

"No silly, this is a 'personal relationship' lunch." He smiled and waved goodbye.

Hermione went back to her office, and to her surprise, her staff had a cake and decorations waiting for her. Mr. Moss was there as well. He told her he didn't really have a meeting with the Board, he had just wanted to share the good news of her promotion with the staff, and have time to decorate her office. She was so happy. After a half an hour of well deserved celebrating, she told her staff they had to get to work on the big spring gala.

She gave out assignments to everyone, and told them all to get their first reports to her in 48 hours. She started working as well. Before she knew it, it was almost one o'clock. She retrieved her coat from the chair Draco had thrown it earlier, and ran to Diagon Alley to meet him.

She suddenly realized he never told her were they were to meet. She walked around for almost ten minutes. Finally, she saw him down the street, walking toward her, with his collar up, to protect him from the cold.

She ran toward him, and said, "I didn't know where to meet you, I'm so sorry I'm late."

He grabbed her arm, led her into a nearby restaurant, and said, "It's just so damn cold, let's just eat here." The hostess took them to a table.

He kept his coat on, even at the table. "Are you really that cold?" she asked.

"It's March," he asserted, as if that was a valid answer.

"We're inside now," she said in a condensing tone.

"I'm cold blooded," he explained.

"Like a snake?" she asked, and then she hissed.

"Fine, I'll take my coat off, but you'd better be prepared to warm me up, woman," he laughed.

He took his coat off, and then she saw the real reason he kept it on. He was hiding something under his coat. He placed it on the table. It was a large package, with a big green bow.

"What's that?" she asked.

"A package," he answered.

"Who's it for?" she wondered.

"Oh, I forgot, it's for you. I was going to wait and give it to you if you were a good girl, but if you promise you'll be good during our lunch, I'll give it to you now," he said nonchalantly, and pushed the package toward her.

"Why did you get me a present?" she asked, pulling at the green ribbon.

"It's a combination gift, for your promotion and for deciding to date me, and well, for many other things," he droned onward awkwardly, pushing the package closer to her. "Go on, open it."

She opened it, already knowing what it would reveal. It was that damn book again! She turned the rare second edition of _**Hogwarts, a History**_around and looked inside. It was even inscribed. She would love to keep this book. However, it was the principle of the thing. It was much to valuable. She clutched it to her chest for a moment, not even realizing what she was doing, and she put it back on the table, and pushed it toward him.

He was smiling when she picked it up, but as she pushed it back toward him, he started to frown.

"Why do you keep trying to give me this book?" she pleaded.

"I thought it was what you wanted. You had Potter bid on the bloody thing for you," he said.

"Yes, and he was outbid by you. It's yours," she answered.

He pushed it back toward her, and said, "I want to give it to you."

Now she pushed it back toward him, and said, "You can't buy me with a bloody book that's this rare and expensive!"

"What do you think I'll be 'buying', if you keep that book?" he asked with anger. "Tell me, Hermione, what would I be buying?"

"My self-respect and pride," she answered.

"What a stupid, Gryffindor, thing to say," he spat. "You have false pride and no respect for yourself, if that's what you truly think," he continued, with indignation. "At least you didn't think I was trying to buy sex." He got up from the table, and grabbed his coat. "Burn the blasted thing, throw it off the highest tower, I don't give a damn." He put his coat on and left. He also left the book.

She was shocked. She really must have hurt his feelings. She picked up the book, grabbed her coat, and ran after him. Did Draco Malfoy actually walk out on her? Did she really hurt his feelings? She stepped out of the restaurant, clutching both the book and her coat, and looked to the left, then to the right. He was long gone. Great, she thought. Her lunch hour wasted, and she really was hungry. Her hunger was what made her angry. Not him. Never him. At least, that was what she told herself, even though she knew that wasn't the truth.

She walked back toward her building, and about a block away, someone grabbed her and pulled her into an alleyway. She didn't even have time to scream. The person put his hand on her mouth. She was shaking and frightened. She dropped her coat and the book. The stranger whispered in her ear, "Do you have a death wish?" He let go of her mouth, and she turned around. It was Draco! She hit him hard, several times, with her closed fists on his chest.

"You scared me so much! If I had my wand, you would be so sorry right now," she yelled at him. He put his hands up to block her blows. "And what was with the 'death wish' comment?"

"I meant because it's so bloody cold out here, and you didn't have your coat on. Goodness, Granger, you're a violent, little thing." He picked up her coat and the book and handed them both to her. She handed him back the book, and slipped her coat on. He tried to hand the book back to her, and she shook her head no. He held it high above his head, acting as if he would smash it to the ground, so she reluctantly took the damn thing. He probably really would leave it in the alley. She would see that it got back to him later.

They walked in silence back to her building. "Since lunch was a wash, would you care to have dinner tonight?" he asked her, hugging her tight, as soon as they got to the entrance of her building.

"Maybe you shouldn't hug me so close to my work. Someone might see," she chastised him.

"This is merely for medicinal purposes. So we won't become ill. Body heat, you know?" he explained, and then he added, "So, what about dinner?"

"What is your malfunction?" she asked.

"I really don't know what that means," he said, seriously. He probably didn't. She would explain.

"What it means is, you act all angry and indignant back at the restaurant, and then you accost me in an alley, and now you ask me out for dinner," she told him, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What are you saying?" he asked, letting her go. "You don't want to go out with me?"

"Here, just take your book, please." She tried to hand the book back to him.

"Give it to me tonight at dinner," he suggested, running his hand through his hair.

"I really have plans tonight," she said in return,shivering, since he was no longer holding her.

"Are you cheating on me, before we even start dating?" He laughed to hide his anxiety.

"I'm babysitting for Harry and Ginny, so nothing quite as exciting as a date with you." She playfully hit his arm.

"Potter and Little Red have a baby?" he asked her, with a look of disgust.

"Yes, its a little boy, named James, and he's a few months old. They haven't gone out, just the two of them, since he was born. I can't back out of this now," she explained. She put her hand on his arm. "Will you ask me again, or have I blown my only chance?" she asked, also trying to hide her anxiety.

He sighed. She thought he was going to tell her that she did indeed blow her chance, when he shocked her by saying, "It just really makes me sick."

"What does?" She didn't understand.

"The thought of Little Red and Lightning Bolt having sex. Yuck. It's gross," he blanched.

"Well, sex is usually how people have babies, Malfoy. Hasn't your father ever had the 'sex talk' with you?" She laughed. "They're both very attractive people, whom love each other a lot, so I'm sure for them, having sex isn't disgusting at all."

He shut his eyes for a moment, and said, "Nope, you're wrong. In my imagination, it's gross."

"Goodbye, Malfoy." Hermione smiled and started in the building.

"What time are you babysitting?" he called after her, "I'll come over."

"Maybe we will see each other in a few days, and have dinner, like you suggested. I'll see you." She waved and walked through the lobby. She left him outside. She still had his book, so she would have to see him again, if only to give it back.

And he decided he would see her tonight while she was babysitting.


	4. 4 The Baby

**All characters belong to JK Rowling**

**Chapter 4 - The Baby**

Hermione arrived at Harry's house around 6:15 pm that night. Harry and Ginny were planning to leave at 6:30 pm. She didn't want to give them very much time with her before leaving, knowing they would be nervous leaving the baby for the first time. Hermione figured there was no reason to make her nervous, too.

Ginny's mum was originally going to baby-sit tonight, but there was a change in plans, and Harry asked Hermione to take her place. Hermione didn't really have a lot of experience with babies, but she had read many books about them. She would be fine, she hoped.

When Hermione arrived at the Potters, however, it appeared that Ginny was definitely having second thoughts. "Have you ever taken care of a baby, Hermione?" Ginny asked her, handing the baby to Hermione.

"No," Hermione admitted, "but I've read plenty of books on the subject."

Harry laughed at this, thinking Hermione was making a joke, but when Hermione gave him a dirty look, he realized that she was serious, and he stopped laughing. "Come on, Gin," Harry stated, "Everything will be fine. She can get a hold of us at the restaurant if she needs us." He ushered his wife out of the door, and gave Hermione an encouraging smile.

"Bye, James!" Ginny yelled to the baby when they were leaving.

Hermione held the tiny baby close and said, "Your mummy and your daddy are silly, baby James. Auntie Hermione will do just fine, or die trying."

The evening started out easy enough. The baby slept for the first 45 minutes. After that, all hell broke loose. He cried. She changed his nappy. He cried some more. She rocked him in the rocking chair. He cried even more. She tried to read to him; reasoning that it was never too early for books. When he was still crying an hour later, Hermione decided to try to feed him. She went to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle, when the doorbell rang.

"Bloody hell, who could be at the door?" Hermione sighed. She went to the door, and looked out the window. What in the world was _he_ doing here? She opened the door, and there stood Draco Malfoy, with a pizza, a bottle of wine, and roses, for goodness sakes. She cautiously let him enter, but warned, "Malfoy, now is not a good time. What are you doing here anyway?"

Malfoy walked in, and said, "We had a date tonight."

"No, we didn't. I told you I had to baby-sit. How did you find me? How did you know where Harry lived?" she wondered aloud.

"So many questions at once, and let me tell you, the amount of things I know would curl even your hair, little girl," he said, as he made a beeline to the kitchen.

She followed him, and pleaded, "Please go, Malfoy. I'm having a hard enough time handling the baby. I can't deal with you as well."

"Just make it shut up, and then we can eat our pizza," he offered, as if that would just be the easiest thing in the world to do.

"It's a he, not an 'it'; and I've tried to stop his crying. I was making him a bottle when you came." She went back to making the bottle, as Malfoy looked around for a wine opener and some glasses.

As the bottle was warming, Hermione was bouncing up and down with the baby. She didn't know why. It wasn't really helping any, and none of the books recommended it, but she'd seen people do this before, so maybe it would help.

"You're going to bounce it right out of its nappy, if you keep bouncing like that," Malfoy observed.

She glared at him.

He said, "Seriously, its little head is about to bounce right off its body."

"Shove it," she said. She took the bottle, and tested it on her arm. It was too hot, she yelped in pain, and said a few curse words. She took her wand to it to place a chilling charm on the bottle.

Malfoy sat back in his chair, laughed, and then said, "I doubt that Potter would be happy to know that Auntie Granger was teaching little Potter his first obscenities."

"Please, shut up," Hermione said, close to tears, while trying to get the baby to take his bottle.

Malfoy stood up, and came next to her, and looked down at the baby and said, "You heard her, shut up."

"I was talking to you, you moron," Hermione said to Draco.

"Why won't it shut up?" Draco asked, ignoring her comment to him.

"He's hungry," she spat.

"Does he want to have some pizza?" Draco joked.

"Are you deliberately trying to be obtuse?" Hermione glared. Then she sat down, as the baby started to take his bottle, and she said, "No more jokes, okay. I'm feeling nervous enough as it is."

He sat next to her, and poured them both some wine. "This is a day for the history books, finally, something in which Hermione Granger doesn't exceed. Call the reporters. We must document this monumental occasion," Draco proclaimed with a smile.

"I just don't know why he was crying so much," Hermione said, feeling a little less anxious, now that the baby was taking his bottle.

"Maybe it didn't like being bounced around like a ball. Or maybe it finally realized that Potter was his dad. I would have a good cry, if I had just found out that," Malfoy said, putting a slice of pizza on first one plate, and then another.

"I'll say this only once more – it's a he! If you keep this up, I really must insist that you leave," she persisted, almost at the point of tears.

Seeing that she was truly feeling upset, he didn't make any more jokes.

"How long will that take?" Draco finally asked. "Our pizza will get cold."

"Then go ahead and eat," she said with a frown.

"That wouldn't be polite," he pointed out.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and said, "Oh, but it's so much more polite to come over to someone's house, uninvited. Geesh. You're acting more infantile than the infant."

Malfoy stood up, and started snooping around the kitchen, opening drawers, cupboards, and cabinets. Hermione didn't care, as long as he was entertaining himself, and was quiet. It was as if she were looking after two babies.

She finished feeding the baby, and put him over her shoulder, to burp him. He finally burped, and Draco exclaimed, "How rude! Doesn't it have any manners?"

"**It** is four months old," Hermione shot back, emphasizing the 'it'.

"Well, it's never too early to learn manners. This little chap apparently hasn't been taught proper etiquette." Hermione gave him the dirtiest look she could muster, and he added, "I know, I know, you're not in the mood for jokes. I can tell you would be a fun wife. As soon as the kid arrives, you'd be one of those women who'd turn into a screeching, overprotective, frumpy Mum, practically overnight."

"That was mean, and what do you know about it?" Hermione asked.

"I know kids ruin a relationship," he said seriously.

"Do you speak from experience?" she asked.

"No, but every bloke I know who has a kid, all of the sudden their relationship with their wife or girlfriend changes for the worse. No more sex, no more caring about how they look, no more romantic evenings." He ticked off each item on his fingers as he spoke, but before he could go any further, Hermione stopped him.

"So, I take it you don't want children?" she concluded.

He took a long look at Hermione rocking the cooing baby back and forth in her arms, and he thought she looked perfect. As if it was meant to be. Of course, he wanted children, with the right woman. No reason to let her know that. It was more fun to provoke her.

"If I ever do have children," he started, "I certainly won't have anything to do with them until they can walk and talk and go to the bathroom on their own."

"You're telling me you'll never hold your own baby?" she asked, shocked beyond belief.

"Of course not. That's why you have a nanny. My father never held me, and look how good I turned out." He smiled and held out his hands, as if to say, '_**look at me!'  
**_  
Hermione responded, "So that's your problem, your father never held you?"

"Are you channeling Dr. Freud now?" he asked, one eyebrow in the air.

"When do you plan to interact with your children, when they go away to University?" she wondered aloud.

"By then, if they can walk, talk, and go to the bathroom by themselves, and allude to a little bit of manners, then yes, I may grace them with my appearance, every once in a while," Draco retorted with a haughty air.

"I give up," she said. Then, she looked at the baby and said, "Just ignore the big, bad, snobbish man over there. I won't let him hurt you." She looked back up at Draco and he was smiling at her. "What?"

"You look nice, that's all," he said with sincerity. She did look nice. Natural. She would make a great mum. Malfoy tried to hide his embarrassment, by saying, "Is it ever going to go to bed?"

"If you'll hold him a minute, I'll go up and get his bed ready, and then I'll put him down." She stood up, walked over to him, and tried to hand him the baby. He backed away so suddenly, that he knocked his chair over backwards, and he landed on the floor, with a thump.

The baby started to cry again, from the noise Malfoy made, so she hissed, "Malfoy, stop making so much noise. You woke him back up!" She started to swing the baby side to side, and he was soon back to sleep.

Malfoy was now standing as far away from them as he could, at the far end of the kitchen. She walked up to him, and commanded, "Please, hold the baby, just for a minute."

"I've never held one before, and I don't intend to start now," he pouted, while folding his arms across his chest. She came closer, and he now seemed genuinely afraid.

Hermione told him, "Hold out your arms."

"Please, don't make me," Draco pleaded.

"Malfoy, I am sick of your antics. Now, hold this baby this instant, or I will never, ever, have sex with you," she ordered, surprising herself with the threat.

He looked at her, shocked, and then without any more goading, he held out his arms. She placed the baby in them. She positioned his arms, just so, and soon he was holding the baby like an old pro. "I'll be right back," she said sweetly, leaning over to kiss the baby's head before she walked out of the room.

'_Now what?'_ Draco thought. He looked down at the little dark hair baby. "At least you don't have ginger hair," he told him. "Being related to all those Weasleys, you had a good chance you know. And, I'm happy to see you don't have a stupid scar on your forehead."

He sat at the table, started to relax, and continued to talk to the little baby. "I should sit down, that way, if I drop you, you won't have far to fall. Did you see what your Auntie Hermione did? She threatened me. She said, 'no sex, unless you do as I say'. You'll soon find out, little man, that women will withhold sex for all sorts of reasons. I'll clue you in on something, right now, it's best to just let them have their way."

He found himself rocking back and forth, with little James content in his arms. "Well old boy, I've got a secret. That little auntie of yours is something special; yes, she is. I bet she just wanted me to hold you to see if I really liked babies. Well, guess what Potter? I do like babies, and for being related to Scarboy and Little Red, you aren't half bad."

Hermione had already come back downstairs and was standing in the doorway, and had witnessed the entire exchange between Draco and the baby. She heard everything after, _"I've got a secret."_ She coughed to let her presence be known.

"I'll take him upstairs now." She held out her arms.

He stood up, and said, "You lead, I'll follow. I'm not taking the chance of giving it to you, and having it wake up again." She noticed that he was back to calling him, 'it'. Hermione assumed he was trying to keep up appearances.

They walked up stairs, and Draco placed the baby in his crib. Hermione bent down and kissed the baby on his forehead. "Goodnight, James. Uncle Draco and Auntie Hermione love you very much."

Draco turned to her, and whispered, "Don't tell him that I love him. That's not even true. You shouldn't lie to children."

"You don't love him?" she inquired with a grin.

He frowned and said, "I don't even know him. Now, can we go back downstairs and commence with our date?" He took her hand, and led her back down the stairs. They walked back into the kitchen, and he said, "Let's take the food in the living room."

"Do you want me to warm the pizza?" she asked him.

"Not unless you want to. I actually like cold pizza," Malfoy explained. He walked in to get the pizza.

"I should have known you would like cold pizza, with your cold blood and all," Hermione joked, and then she hissed at him again.

They sat in the living room, ate their cold pizza, and drank their wine. They made general small talk. When the pizza was almost gone, and the wine was as well, Hermione said, "You should go. I don't think it'd be wise for Harry to find you here when he gets back. He'll probably think you're here to corrupt his son."

"No," Draco stated, "he'll probably think I'm here to corrupt his best friend, and on that account, he'd be correct." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"The King of Slytherin, heir to all things pureblood, and the Princess of Gryffindor, heir to all things Mudblood," she said, out of the blue. "Who'd ever have imagined that you and I would somehow, someday, get together?" She laughed at the absurdity.

"Well, princess, I'm not sure I would classify us as together," he said, as he lay down on the couch, and put his head on her lap. She started to stroke his hair.

"I wasn't implying anything. Don't worry." She tried to sound lighthearted, but in reality, she was a bit peeved. So what? She said they were 'together'. She didn't mean anything by it. She grew suddenly silent, and stopped stroking his hair. He looked up at her, and took her hand.

"What's wrong?" he wanted to know.

"Why did you hate me so much in school?" she asked, not even aware that question was going to come out of her mouth.

Not fazed by the question, he answered her honestly. "Because you were a Mudblood." He looked up at her again, and she was staring over her shoulder, looking in the opposite direction. He quickly sat up, and moved closer to her. "You asked me. If you didn't want to know, you shouldn't have asked."

She stood up and said, "No that's fine." She was avoiding his eyes. She picked up the trash from the coffee table, along with their glasses, and walked out of the room. She walked into the kitchen, and put the dishes in the sink. She was standing with her arms around her body. He walked into the kitchen, and she didn't turn around, although she was aware that he was there. He walked up to her, and put his hands on her shoulders. She flinched slightly.

"Hermione, I don't feel that way anymore, and I'm sorry that I ever did. My father probably didn't hug me enough when I was a child. That's my problem." He tried to joke, although he was pained that she was upset.

She turned around, wiped a single tear off her cheek, and said, "Yes, I'm sure that's the reason." She tried to feign a smile, but he knew it was false, so he came up and held her. She started to cry, and said, "Do you know how much I hate that word? It's a hateful, mean spirited, degrading word. It's made to oppress people, and inflict them with inferiority, and if I never hear it again in my life, it'll be too soon."

He had never really realized that the word 'Mudblood' hurt her so much. He must have called her that a hundred times growing up. He didn't even put much stock in the word. To him, it was just a word. It meant nothing, but to her, it meant hurt and pain. He was truly sorry. He still had her in his arms and he began to stroke her hair, then he put his hand under her chin, and made her look up at him. "I will never ever use that word again," he promised, and he meant every word of that vow.

She smiled and turned around, to wash the dishes. He kept his arms around her waist and put his head on her shoulder. She dropped the dishtowel, they both bent to pick it up, and they hit heads together.

"Ouch!" Hermione cried.

"Damn!" Draco reiterated, at the same time.

She rubbed her right temple, as he rubbed his forehead, then she put her hand to his forehead, and felt his bump at the same time that he placed his hand on her head, and felt her bump.

"I would have thought all that bushy hair would have made for a better cushion," he joked.

"Well, who would have ever guessed that a head as empty as your would hurt. I would have thought it would be soft like a balloon; both filled with air," she joked back.

He place his hands on her shoulders again, and said, "Your lame attempts at humour are so, so sad, Granger."

"Like you're the king of comedy?" she snapped. "You really need to go before Harry and Gin get back," she added.

"Do I get a kiss goodnight?" he questioned her.

"No, you get no kiss, because this wasn't a real date," she pointed out. "When we have our first date, we'll have our first goodnight kiss."

"We've kissed already," he stated.

"Yes, but not a goodnight kiss; those are special," she purred as she wrapped her arms around his waist, and hugged him tight. "Very, very special indeed," she promised.

He said, "No kiss goodnight, huh? I'll survive, but I'll take the rest of the pizza home, since I don't get a kiss." He smiled at her, picked up the pizza box, and walked to the front door. She followed. He turned to her and said, "Our first date is tomorrow night, woman. Be prepared."

_Be prepared?_ She laughed aloud and said, "Fine, tomorrow at seven, pick me up at my house. I'm sure you already know the address."

He smirked and said, "Of course. Until tomorrow, Hermione," and he Disapparated to his house. He put the pizza box on the counter, and opened it for another bite. When he opened the box, instead of pizza inside, there was that damn book again. He knew a challenge when he saw one. Hermione Granger had thrown down the gauntlet, but Draco Malfoy would win the war.


	5. 5 The Hand Incident

**All characters belong to JK Rowling**

**Chapter 5: The Hand Incident**

From his desk, if he leaned all the way back, craned his head just the right way, and shut his right eye, Draco could see Gringotts bank. He was doing just that, that Wednesday morning, because he wanted to see if he could see the place that Hermione worked, and he could...if he squinted.

He pushed his chair back to his desk, and thought about the date they would soon have, and the goodnight kiss she promised him. Draco was besotted with Hermione Granger. No two ways about it; he had it bad. He had not even gone out with her, yet he thought about her every minute of the day. He was scheduled to see her tomorrow, to discuss the Spring Gala. He didn't think he could physically or mental wait that long. He would have to see her today.

He told his assistant to get a hold of Miss Granger, and tell her they must reschedule her meeting from tomorrow to today at 11:00 am. That way, he could take her to lunch afterward. Not a 'professional lunch', but a 'personal lunch.' It could count as their first date. Draco wondered if Hermione was the type of girl to sleep on the first date. Probably not.

While he waited for his assistant to give him Hermione's response, he thought about her observation last night. The whole business about the, 'King of Slytherin and the Princess of Gryffindor'. He frowned. Did she really think that they didn't make a good match? Maybe she was just commenting on the irony of the situation. The whole 'Mudblood' soliloquy she delivered gave him pause for thought. He never once considered that he had hurt her that much during school. Good thing she was a better person than him, and had the capacity for forgiveness. He wasn't sure he had quite the forgiving nature that she did.

He looked out his window again, and craned his neck, to try to get another glimpse of her building, when his assistant came in and said that Miss Granger's assistant Owled and said Miss Granger would be happy to meet him at 11:00 am this morning. Hot damn! There was still two hours until 11:00 o'clock. He wanted to see her right now! He couldn't get her off his mind.

He started some boring work, and met with some people to pass the time. When it was ten minutes until 11:00 o'clock, Draco's assistant told him that Miss Granger's assistant just Owled him again with a message that she had a "family emergency" and she had to leave to catch a "plane" and would be gone for several days. She sent her apologies.

Draco was angry at first, and then a bit concerned. If she was going to be gone for a few days, that meant no meeting today, no lunch, and no dinner. At exactly 11:00 am, a witch by the name of Betsy Blake came to see Draco, and said that she was keeping Miss Granger's appointment for her. Draco told her to leave and that he would only see Granger. Yes, he was rude to her. He didn't care. He didn't really want to talk about the stupid Gala. He could care less about the Gala. He had just wanted to see Hermione.

Draco went home that night in a terrible mood, and decided it was all her fault. He was angry with her. She was bloody inconsiderate. She could have Owled him directly, or popped by and seen him, before she left. Even if they weren't 'dating', they did have an understanding, didn't they?

The weekend came and went, and there was no news from Granger. He stopped by her house several times during the weekend, and she wasn't home. He was actually more worried than angry now.

On Monday, he walked in the office and was told that Miss Granger had been in and had left him a note on his desk. He sprinted to his desk, and picked up the note. All it said was, _**"I'm going out of town again for a few days. Sorry I missed you this morning. I'll see you when I return."**_ What a perfectly horrid note. He discarded it in the trash, and cursed her for her rudeness.

He no longer cared. Not in the least. He didn't even want to go out with her anymore. She wasn't pretty anyway. He leaned back in his chair, to try to see her building, when he stopped himself. If he didn't care, then he had no business looking at her building.

Finally, on that Thursday, nine full days since he had seen her, he walked in his office, and saw her sitting in the reception area. He tried to avert his gaze. He didn't even want to acknowledge her. He walked right past her and into his office. His assistant told him Miss Granger was here to see him. The stupid man. Did he think Draco was blind? He told his assistant to tell her to call ahead next time and schedule her appointments, and not to just show up unannounced.

He walked into his office, sat down, and growled. DAMN! He didn't want her to leave! He ran to his outer office. His assistant had already left to talk to Granger. Draco ran out to catch them. He walked to the reception area, and saw his stupid assistant sitting on the couch, laughing with Hermione, and she had her hand on his arm. They were flirting! He walked up to them, and decided turn around was fair play, so he took off his coat and threw it over her head. He then told his assistant to get back to work.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, with a muffled voice, from under his coat.

"What?" he asked perturbed.

"May I take your coat off my head?" she asked.

He reached down for his coat and then walked toward his office. She just sat there.

He turned toward her and said, "Come on then, I don't have all day."

She stood and followed him to his office. He sat behind his desk, and she sat in a chair in front. "Were you flirting with my assistant?" he asked.

"Who, Scott?" she asked back.

"How many damn assistants do you think I have? Yes, Scott, and how do you know his name?" Draco drilled.

"We were just talking," she laughed.

"You know he's gay, right?" Draco lied, reminiscent to what she had said about her assistant being married, when he flirted with her.

"Draco, can we get to work?" she asked.

"Did we have a meeting scheduled?" he asked back, looking down at some papers.

"I'll come back later, when you're back to normal," she said as she stood to leave.

"Sit down, Granger. Tell me, where have you been for nine days?" Draco quizzed.

"I had to go with my father to Scotland," she told him, as if that was enough information, and should make perfectly logical sense to him.

"Why?" he inquired.

"Can we discuss the Gala first, and then my miserable existence? I feel we're so behind in the preparations, which I know is entirely my fault," she explained, "Maybe we can have a personal lunch today, and I'll tell you where I've been."

He wanted to have lunch with her. He didn't want to be angry with her anymore. He decided, right then and there, to stop being a prick, and just give in to Hermione Granger's pull over him.

"I have an idea," he said as he moved from his desk chair, to the chair next to her, "let's talk about the Gala now, and then have dinner later tonight. Our first date and all, okay?"

She seemed surprised by this. "You really still want to go out with me? Even after I stood you up?"

"Of course, I'm smitten with you. It might be some sort of dark magic, or maybe you gave me a love potion, but I can't help wanting to be with you." He leaned over and kissed her check sweetly. "Now," he added, "tell me where you've been."

"If I talk about it, I'll be in a right foul mood, and I'm sure you don't want that," Hermione said, in a serious tone. He had her hand, and nodded at her to continue. "Oh, it's my stupid father! Last Tuesday, after babysitting James, my father was at my house waiting for me. He told me he met a woman and he was in love and was going to marry her." She stood up and threw her hands up in the air. "He's known her for only two weeks! They met on March 1, which by the way was my mum's birthday." She was pacing the room now.

Draco didn't know Hermione's mum was dead, but he assumed from the way she said _'was my mum's birthday'_ that she was. He stood up next to her and put his hands on her shoulders to keep her from pacing, before she made a hole in the floor.

"Continue," Draco said.

"Well, as I said, he meets this woman on March 1, and he tells me on March 15th that he wants to marry her, on, get this, March 17th! Which, you won't believe this one, was my mum and dad's anniversary." She sat down again and put her head in her hands.

"She's a terrible woman, only after his money, I'm sure, and she's only five years older than I am. My father doesn't want her ever to know about my magic. I feel like I've lost my mum _and_ my dad. I went to the stupid wedding, to support him. No, I went to try to talk sense into him, and get him to use better judgment, but he married the wretched woman anyway. Then, I just needed to take some time off to think about things."

Draco pulled her from the chair and hugged her. He put his arms tight around her and kissed the top of her head.

She looked up at him and said, "Her name is Bernice. Yuck." She put her head back on his chest, and he tried to restrain his chuckle. "My father thought all the coincidences, like the date he met her, and their wedding date, were signs from my mother, saying she would approve." She looked up at Draco, and tears were forming in her eyes, "My mum's only been dead a year. A year this month, if you can imagine. I hate March."

"Wow," Draco said, since all form of words had escaped him at the moment. Poor Hermione. He'd been thinking all sorts of mean things about her for the past nine days, and she'd been going through quite a little ordeal.

She stepped away from Draco, and held up her finger and her thumb in a gesture and said, "I was this close to Oblivating his memory, but I didn't. Well, no use crying over spilled milk."

"What does that mean?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, it's just another useless Muggle saying," she laughed.

"You need to get me a Muggle to Wizard dictionary," he said seriously.

She suddenly jumped up and down, as if she had stepped on hot coals, and said, "That's given me a great idea for the Gala, but first, I want to check out a hotel that I was considering for it. Why don't we go there today, check the place out, have our 'business lunch' and go over my ideas for the Gala, and then we can stay for dinner!" She seemed so excited.

"Where is this hotel?" he asked, amused.

"It's on the coast. It's a Wizard hotel. It's called The Grand Marsh Hotel. I hear it's beautiful, and it would be the perfect venue," Hermione said.

"So, let me get this straight, you want to take me to hotel?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"If the idea of going to a hotel with me repulses you, then by all mean, stay here," Hermione said, gathering her things, "but, I'm going and I'm leaving now." She walked out his door.

He followed.

"Should we Apparate there?" he asked as he caught up with her.

"No, it's such a beautiful day, and it's not too cold out, so let's drive. Maybe it'll take my mind off my mum," she responded.

He thought she was joking, so he laughed. Her smile left her face, so he said, "Are you serious? In a Muggle car?"

"Haven't you ever been in a car?" she asked him.

"Yes, but I don't drive myself. Who'll drive?" He didn't seem to comprehend what she was trying to say.

"I have a car, and I'll drive. It'll be fun." She took his arm, without telling him what she was about to do, and Apparated them both to her house.

"Don't ever do that again!" he yelled. He hated side-along Apparition.

"Let's go outside, and I'll show you my car." Hermione led Draco out back and showed him her car. It was nothing special, as far as Draco could see. She opened the boot end, put her satchel in there, and said, "Get in."

He opened the passenger door and sat down. Feeling very uneasy, he shut the door and looked around.

She got in behind the wheel, and said, "Let's go. We should be there in about an hour." She started to back out of her drive, when she stopped and said, "Put your seatbelt on, please."

"No, it'll crease by suit," he said.

She said, "I'm not going anywhere, unless you put your seatbelt on."

"Splendid," he said, "let's Apparate."

She reached around him and fastened his seat belt. He slapped her hand and said, "Fresh!"

They started driving and all Draco could think was that Hermione had lied. She was a terrible driver. Draco actually feared for his life. "Now I know why you're so terrible on a broom," he said, clutching the dashboard.

"Shut up, I'm a good driver," she said, narrowly missing an on-coming car.

"Tell me about your ideas for the Gala," he said. He wanted to get his mind off her driving. He thought he was going to be sick and possibly dead any moment.

"Why should we have the same old boring ball or stuffy dance? I thought we should do something fun. I want to call it 'The Spring Fling'. I thought we could get a swing band, and still have a dance, but also have some fun things going on, like maybe a roulette table, and like a fortuneteller's booth, maybe a kissing booth, and some Muggle carnival type things. We could sell raffle tickets, and raffle things like, a broom ride with the world famous Harry Potter. And maybe, play Quidditch with the world famous Quidditch player, Ron Weasley. We could even have a raffle for a date with the world famous playboy, Draco Malfoy."

He thought everything sounded wonderful, until she said that last thing. "No," he said, "everything but that last one."

"Why not?" she asked, looking at him. He put his hand on her face, and pointed it toward the front window.

"Please watch the road," he shouted, "and, the reason is because I can't be bought and sold to the highest bidder."

"Then, we'll do, 'win a date with the world famous Muggle-born', Hermione Granger," she laughed.

He frowned and said, "Definitely not."

"You can't tell me what to do," she said slowly.

"I can tell you what to do at this Gala, and I say no. Definitely not. If you and I haven't even gone out on a date yet, I don't bloody well think I'll allow you to raffle yourself off as a date to some stranger. You're not a prostitute," he said seriously.

"The Spring Fling won't be until April 14th. Surely we'll have had our date by then," she said, looking at him again.

"Keep your eyes on the damn road!" he yelled, "And, yes, hopefully we'll have had lots of dates before then, perhaps even lots of sex, but still, I don't want you to raffle yourself off as some door prize."

"Maybe you could buy all the raffle tickets, and take me out on the date," she replied.

He laughed and said, "No way. I already bought a bloody book for a million galleons to go out with you, and that hasn't even happened yet. Why would I waste more money?"

"AH HA!" Hermione yelled, pointing at him and swerving the car in the process. "I knew you had ulterior motives with that book!"

"I never pretended that I didn't," he countered, reaching out to wheel to right the car.

"But you claimed all the time that you weren't trying to buy me with that book, you liar," she fumed.

"Let's rack that oversize brain of yours for a moment, Miss Granger. You said I couldn't buy your self-respect and pride with that book. I told you I didn't want your self-respect and pride. I never said I didn't want to go out with you. Which, I might remind you, isn't exactly working out the way I planned, since we have, one: never gone out yet, and, two: I seem to some how be in possession of the book at the moment, not you."

"So, your evil scheme didn't turn out. So sad for you," she laughed.

"It hasn't worked out yet. It will," he concluded.

"Not as long as I'm not in possession of the book," she said smugly.

He smiled. She didn't give him enough credit.

"Whatever happened to Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione asked unexpectedly.

He frowned and said, "Where in the world did that come from?"

"I was just curious," she said, as she slowed down, and turned on a country lane. "You two were quite the item in school, weren't you?"

"I was an item with a lot of girls in school," he said finally. "Tell me something, Miss Noisy, what happened to you and the Weasel. Didn't you date in school?"

"Tell me about Pansy first." She turned to look at him, and he gave her a reprimanding look, and she turned back to look at the road.

"I haven't even seen her since school, happy?" he told her. "Now, tell me the dirt on you and the Weasel."

"We just decided we wanted different things out of life, but we're still best friends," she said vaguely.

"And, more details please," he prodded.

"What more can I say? We wanted different things."

"Like you wanted more S&M and bondage, and he wanted someone like his mummy?" he laughed.

"Yuck," she said, and stuck out her tongue. "You're so gross."

"If you won't elaborate, then I must come to my own conclusions," he surmised.

"Fine, Ron wanted to get married and to have kids, and I wanted my career,"  
she finally said.

He shook his head and said, "So, you can't multi-task? You can't have your cake and eat it too? Something isn't right here. I saw you with the baby the other night. I don't believe you don't want kids," he said to her in a non-mocking tone.

"He didn't want me to work, okay. Must I explain more?" She was tired of this line of questioning.

"In other words," Draco concluded, "he wanted you 'barefoot and pregnant'."

She said, "It was something like that. It doesn't matter. It was all for the best." Then she turned to him and said, "Barefoot and pregnant? That's a Muggle expression, you know."

He laughed. "I wanted to speak in terms you would understand," he said, with another chuckle, "since you're practically a Muggle."

She slammed on the brakes, and he had to put his hands on the dash again, to keep from hitting his head.

"Listen, Malfoy!" she steamed, "I'm as much of a wizard as you are. You act like blood purity doesn't matter to you any longer, but you're such a liar." She got out of the car and slammed the door.

For goodness sakes, he was joking. He didn't mean anything by it.

He stayed in the car.

She stayed outside the car.

About five minutes passed and she got back in the car. She sat there, without restarting the engine.

"Give me your hand," Draco told her softly.

"Why?"

"May I have your hand, please?" he asked. She handed him her left hand, and he kissed the back of her hand, and then he kissed each finger. She felt the kisses all the way down to her toes.

"Do you have a hand fetish?" she asked finally.

"What?" he laughed, still holding her hand.

"Well, that day in Mr. Moss' office, you did that little thing to my hand and palm, which almost curled my toes, I have to admit, and now this. So, I beg to ask, do you have a hand fetish?" she pleaded again.

"Are you serious? I don't even recall what I did to your hand in your boss' office." Draco said with a smile.

She must have found it more memorable than he did, and that hurt her feelings. "Never mind," Hermione said, snatching her hand from his as she started the car.

He reached over and turned the car off again.

"Show me what I did. Jog my memory," he said to her in a husky voice.

"NO!" she said sharply. "I'm embarrassed enough that you don't even remember the incident. I'm certainly not going to do it to you."

Draco said calmly, "If I'm being accused of having a hand fetish, I would at least like to know the reason why. Show me."

"If you don't remember, then forget it," she said again.

"But you remember. Show me Hermione," he said in a low voice.

She put her head on the steering wheel. He was insane. She was so embarrassed. She plucked up all her nerve, and turned to him. She took his left hand and cradled it in both of hers. She felt excited just holding his hand. Electricity was pumping through every fiber of her being. Was she really going to do this? She had never taken this kind of initiative or risk with a man before.

He took his seatbelt off with his other hand. He didn't want any restraints. The excitement she felt was nothing compared to what he felt. The feeling of stimulation was paramount, at that moment, and all she was planning to do was to kiss his hand, for Merlin's sake.

She took his hand, and started gently to massage each finger with her hands. She caressed each finger and then placed the palm of his hand up to her mouth, and kissed it with a semi-open mouth kiss, almost as if she was kissing his lips. She flicked her tongue on his skin, every so lightly and quickly. He was staring at her intently. She had her eyes closed. Perhaps she was embarrassed, or she could just be caught up in the moment. Whichever was the case, he was getting hard just looking at her.

She ran her tongue up and down each finger, paying special attention to the web of skin between each finger. She kissed each fingertip. She put the tip of his index finger in her mouth and gently sucked. She twirled her tongue around his finger. Now he had his eyes closed. If her mouth on his hand was causing him such abandoned bliss, what might it do to the rest of his body? She was slowly killing him.

She turned his hand over, and kissed the top of it. She gently bit his skin over the top of his hand, and then she dropped his hand on his lap. He opened his eyes and looked languidly at her. She had a pleased look on her face.

When he felt composed, he said, "I don't remember doing the little sucking thing on your index finger, but that was a nice touch."

She hit his arm, and said, "I knew you remembered." She looked at the floor of the car, suddenly embarrassed.

"Of course I remembered," he exclaimed. "Goodness, Granger, I don't think I feel quite satisfied. Hopefully we'll be at the hotel soon."

"I'm not sleeping with you at the hotel," she scolded.

"I wasn't thinking of sleep," he said back.

She rephrased the sentence. "I'm not having sex with you at the hotel, either."

"Who said I need you? I'm sure there are plenty of young ladies at the hotel who would accommodate me," he joked.

She rolled her eyes, and said, "Put your seatbelt back on, and let's get on the road."

He squirmed in his seat. He had a raging erection, and he knew he wasn't going to be comfortable in the car with her, until he took care of his little problem. He opened the door to the car, and ran into the woods. She called out, "Are you car sick? Do you need to go to the bathroom?" He just ignored her. She was so naïve.

She got out to follow him and he shouted over his shoulder as he headed for the woods, "Leave me be for a moment."

She went around to the boot of her car. She might at well get out her satchel. They would be at the hotel any minute. Opening the boot, and saw _**Hogwarts, a History**_, plain as day, in the back of her car. How did he sneak it in there? She was going to have to be smarter and more cunning than Draco Malfoy if she wanted to win the war of the book, and she knew just what to do.


	6. 6 The Close Encounter

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 6: The Close Encounter:**

Draco came back to the car to find Granger nowhere in sight. Where was she? They were in the middle nowhere. Maybe that was her evil plan. Get him all wound up, have him masturbate in the woods, and then leave him stranded. 'Wait, that plan makes no sense', he thought. But, why would she leave the car.

"Where are you, Granger?" he yelled. He walked around the car a couple of times. Maybe that would make her appear. Finally, he saw her coming from the other side of the woods.

"What were you doing in the woods?" he appealed.

"What were you doing in the woods, Malfoy?" she asked back.

"Jacking off," he answered.

"If you refuse to tell me the real reason you were in the woods, then I refuse to tell you," she said with a stuck up air. He smiled. He had told her the truth. She was just too naïve to believe him. However, he was still curious as to where she had gone. He would ask again later.

She frowned. He was so insensitive sometimes. He always said things to shock her. Why couldn't he just tell the truth? Everyone had to go to the bathroom. There was no reason to be embarrassed. 'Jacking off', honestly.

Hermione got back in the car, and then she smiled. She had gone off to the woods to execute the next chapter of the now infamous book war. Ha! He would never suspect a thing.

He opened the car door, and said, "Hermione, let's just forget this driving thing, and apparate to the hotel." He leaned in the car to look at her.

"I don't want to leave my baby out here all alone by itself. I've had this car since I was 16. It's a classic," she explained.

He straightened up, and said aloud, but to himself, "More like a piece of crap." Then he leaned back down, and said, "We won't be at the hotel long. It'll be fine. We can put a disillusionment charm on the car if you want."

She got out of the car, and said, "I thought we were having a nice time driving, talking, and enjoying the scenic countryside."

He was enjoying himself, but he wanted to hurry up and get this thing over with, so they could have their date tonight. So, he said with remorse, "I was having a nice time, but I just thought we should finish up so we could get back before nightfall."

She got out of the car, grabbed her things, and locked it up tight. "Fine," she said as she grabbed his arm and apparated them directly to the lobby of the hotel.

"Damn!" he said when they got there, as he gave her a push. "I told you I hated side-along apparitions! Which of those words didn't you understand? Do you have to be in control of everything? I hate to think what you're like in bed. You probably even control when the man ejaculates."

"I get your point, and don't be so crude," she said harshly. "I'll go talk to the hotel manager to see if they can accommodate our Spring Fling, and then maybe we could get some food. I'm starving."

"You're always hungry," Malfoy sneered. "It's a wonder you don't weigh more than you do."

"Would you still love me, if I was fat?" she quizzed with a smile.

"I don't love you now, so that question has no point," he smiled back.

"Let me rephrase, would you still 'like' me if I was fat?"

"I don't like you…." he began. She put her hand over his mouth.

"Fine, would you still want to sleep with me if I was fat? And if you say you don't want to sleep with me, I'm leaving this instant." She pointed her finger at him, like he was a naughty boy.

He thought for a moment. He thought she would be angry over the, 'I don't love you now comment', but it seemed he didn't know her as well as he thought. He said, "I only want you for your mind, so you can be as fat as you want, just don't misplace any of your intelligence."

"If I keep hanging around with you, there is a definite possibility of that," she said sarcastically. She turned to leave, but turned back quickly, and said, "Do you want to go talk to the manager with me."

"No need. Run along," he said, pushing her toward the counter. She left him alone, and he quickly moved behind a column in the lobby. He saw the last person he would ever want to see, just as she was asking him if he wanted to talk to the manager with her. He hoped beyond hope that Granger didn't see this person. If he continued to hide, maybe he could go unnoticed.

Hermione walked back up to him, and saw he was hiding behind a column. He was such an idiot sometimes. She decided to scare him. She walked to the other side, and said, "BOO!" He jumped high in the air, and she laughed very hard.

"Damn you," Draco said. He slapped her arm.

"The manager is going to take us on a tour of their banquet facilities, and the ballroom, so we can decide which would be the best for us. Oh, and the 14th of April is perfect for them." She started walking toward the manager, and he stayed behind the column. "Aren't you coming?"

"No," he said, actually pushing her along, "I trust you. Whatever you decide is fine with me. Go along now. The quicker you are, the faster you can get to food. I know how much you like food," he said, as he ducked back behind the column.

'Idiot,' she thought.

He looked back around, and saw Granger disappear down a hallway with the manager of the hotel. He walked around the column, just as the person he was trying to avoid noticed him.

"Draco Malfoy! I thought that was you. I would know your blonde hair anywhere. Whatever are you doing here?"

"Hello, Pansy," Draco said, as the witch kissed his lips. He looked around to make sure Granger was truly out of sight. "What are you doing here?"

"I think I asked you first," she said, fawning all over him.

"I'm here on business," he said truthfully.

"I'm here because my cousin is getting married here this evening," she said. "Oh, I have the perfect idea! Why don't you stay, and be my date for the wedding? The reception should be loads of fun, even if she is marrying a Mudblood. Can you believe it?" Pansy squealed.

"Shocking," Draco responded.

"So, can you stay?"

"I don't think so, Pans," he said, "I have to get back tonight."

"Draco, are you avoiding me? I haven't seen you in three weeks," she said, as she sidled next to him, and put her lips on his cheek.

"Has it been that long?" he asked, still on the look out for Hermione. He pulled Pansy's hands away from his shoulders.

"Yes, and frankly, I don't think we've ever gone that long without shagging!" Pansy said with a giggle.

It was all true. Pansy and Draco had been an 'on again, off again', couple for twelve years. They had never been in love, but they did frequently have sex. Even when they were 'off-again', they would have sex. It was just sex. It didn't mean anything. Nevertheless, he could never have told Hermione that. So when she asked about Pansy today in the car, he lied to her. At first, he almost thought she knew. Then, he figured she was just fishing for information. He didn't think it would hurt to lie to her. She would never find out the truth. Never in a million years did he think he would run into Pansy Parkinson, here of all places.

He honestly had not sought out the attentions or affections of Pansy since the night of the auction. He didn't want anyone else. He wanted Granger. He was beginning to think that would never happen, but he was waiting for it to happen nevertheless.

Suddenly, he saw Hermione walking back into the lobby. Pansy was talking some drabble about her outfit for the wedding, and had her back to Hermione. Maybe he could get rid of Pansy before Hermione saw her. Hermione was talking animatedly to the manager. She put her hand on his arm and laughed at something he said. What was with this woman and her putting her hands all over men?

He was no longer paying attention to anything Pansy said. He was staring intently at Hermione, so he didn't notice when Pansy turned around and saw Hermione as well. "Oh, goodness, Draco, is that woman over there who I think it is? It is! Draco, that's Hermione Granger! From Hogwarts. Remember her? Harry Potter's little Mudblood friend. I wonder what she's doing here."

Draco didn't say anything. If he were lucky, the world would open up at that precise moment and swallow him whole. Suddenly, Hermione turned from speaking with the manager, saw Draco and Pansy, and Pansy had her arm linked with his. Great.

Hermione and the manager walked over to them. Hermione was frowning.

"Merlin, Drakie, I think she's actually coming this way! I hope she doesn't recognize us and think she can just come over here and start reminiscing about our school days. Seriously!" Pansy exclaimed.

Hermione did indeed walk up to them. She looked at Pansy's arm hooked with Draco's and said, "Everything looks perfect. I reserved the ballroom. It's decorated for a wedding reception tonight, but Mr. Phillips here assures me they can decorate the hall anyway we want." She looked at Draco the whole time she said this. She didn't even acknowledge Pansy's existence.

"Was the Mudblood talking to you, Draco?" Pansy inquired, now holding Draco's hand.

The manager frowned and said, "Please refrain from using that word at this hotel, miss." Then he turned to Hermione, shook her hand, and said, "I look forward to working with you. Let me know your requirements by Tuesday. It was great meeting you, Hermione. Good day."

"Thank you, Jeff," Hermione said, still shaking his hand.

Draco didn't know what possessed him, but he dropped Pansy's hand and took Hermione's hand from the hotel manager, and said, "The lady might need her hand back." The hotel manager gave Draco a funny look, and then waved at Hermione and left the trio behind.

Hermione turned toward Draco and gave him the dirtiest look she could muster, and he sighed.

"What do you want, Mudblood?" Pansy asked her, and then turned to Draco, "What's going on here, Drakie. You two aren't here together are you?"

"I told you, Pansy, I'm here on business. Granger works for Gringotts, and they are co-sponsoring an event with my company," Draco explained.

Hermione thought that Draco seemed embarrassed. He didn't want Pansy to know they were dating. Well, they weren't exactly dating, since they hadn't even been on one date yet. Draco turned and looked at Hermione. She looked crestfallen that he had told Pansy they were just working together.

Pansy said, "Good. I'm glad you're just working together. I was afraid for a minute you were going to say you were dating, or something. But, of course, I should have known that Draco Malfoy would never date someone like Hermione Granger."

Before Draco could respond, Hermione said, "Of course we aren't dating, Parkinson. Draco wouldn't date a Mudblood, would you, Malfoy?" She looked so angry at him that he thought he saw steam coming out of her ears. Hermione tried to walk away, but Draco put his arms around her shoulders.

"Look, Pansy, the truth is, we are dating. We're working together as well, but we're also seeing each other," Draco told Pansy.

"You're dating her?" Pansy said with disbelief. "Princess Mudblood? Heir of Gryffindor? Harry Potter's little slag. I cannot believe this. You had better be lying, Draco. We all hated her in school!"

"What's your problem, Pans?" Draco bellowed. "Are you jealous of her? Are you jealous of the fact that she always did better than you in school? Jealous of the fact that while everyone in school always knew they could go to you for an easy fuck, nine times out of ten they were wishing it was her? Even the Slytherins wanted Granger, and you could never handle that. Well, guess what. I've grown up. I know what I deserve. I deserve someone sweet, caring, and beautiful. Someone intelligent, someone with morals, and someone who's not you!" Draco's face was so red with anger that Hermione thought he was going to burst at any moment.

Hermione looked at with him with pride, but then Pansy said something that made her ashamed again.

"So, that's why you haven't slept with me in three weeks. Getting it from the Mudblood now? Just know this, Draco; I won't be associated with anyone who sullies themselves with the likes of her." And with that, Pansy flipped her hair, and trotted off.

"She's twenty times the lady you'll ever be, Parkinson!" Draco shouted to her.

He looked down at Hermione, whom he still had wrapped in his arm, to see if she was happy that he defended her honour, but she was frowning. She removed his arm from her shoulder, and said, "So, do you still want to stick with the story from earlier? The one where you claimed you hadn't seen Pansy since school?" Before he could answer, she said, "You make me sick. Do you ever tell the truth? What would happen if you told the truth, just once? Would your nose grow? Are you the anti-Pinocchio?" She walked away from him.

"Who the hell is Pinocchio?" he called after her. In addition, what was with the statement about his nose? He ran after her, and swung her around to look at him. "First, I tried being truthful about one thing today, and you didn't believe me. Never mind what that one thing was, and the thing about Pansy is, well, it's just sex, Granger. It means nothing. I really haven't slept with her or anyone else since the auction."

"Do you want an abstinence metal?" she sneered.

"No, I just want you to removed that stick out of your arse long enough to hear what I'm saying to you," Draco said with malice.

"I don't hear with my arse, unlike you, who talks out of his!" Hermione hissed. "Just leave me alone." She walked to the hotel restaurant and sat down at one of the tables.

He didn't want to go after her, because she had a point. A small point, but a point nonetheless. He had lied earlier, and that was the reason for her reaction.

He waited about fifteen minutes and then decided to go find her. He walked in the crowded restaurant, and found her alone at a round table, overlooking the sea. She was looking out the window, with her head resting on one hand.

"Hermione?" he asked. She didn't acknowledge him. "May I sit down?"

"Yes," she said. She turned to face him. "Do you want some of my salad?" she asked.

"No, I'll order something for myself," he said as he turned to get the waiter's attention, and ordered a steak and some wine. He turned back to Hermione and said, "Let's not fight. It's too tiring. I'll try really hard to be more truthful to you, okay?"

She nodded. Then she said, "I'm not the type to casually date someone. I also don't have casual sex. I have to have a deep emotional connection with someone before I can sleep with them. Therefore, I guess what I want to know from you is, what are your intentions? What are you expecting from me?"

Draco started to explain, "I haven't thought that far ahead. I saw you at my office that day; that day you came looking for donations, and I felt something. For that reason, I went to the auction, to look for you. I realized I was tired of all the casual dating, and even the casual sex. I know you're not that way. I just thought, hell, she's pretty, smart, and familiar. I just wanted to get to know you better. I still do. I know you aren't some easy 'come and go' girl. I don't want that type of girl anymore. I'm not offering you my hand in marriage or anything trite, I just want to date you, okay?"

She smiled and nodded her head yes. Then she said, "I can't really be angry, anyway. You can have sex with whomever you want. We haven't even gone out on a date yet."

"We could just get that over with, and call this a date," he suggested.

"Trying to get off cheap, Malfoy? I don't think so. I want a proper date. Although, maybe we should reschedule. I don't want to go out tonight," she explained, taking a large bite of salad.

"Why don't you want to go out tonight? I thought it was all planned," he asked with a frown.

"Well, I have something better for us to do tonight. When I first came in the restaurant, I saw Chad White. He was two years ahead of us in school. He was in Ravenclaw, and we used to study together. Anyway, he's the one marrying Pansy's cousin, and he just invited us to the wedding!" she gleamed.

He was starting to appreciate how devious her mind could work. What better way to stick it to Pansy, than for them to show up at the wedding and the reception together. He smiled, and then he said, "Yes, I hear he's a Muggle-born as well. This is great, Granger. We should go to the boutique here and get some clothes, and get a room so we can get showered and changed." He moved his napkin from in front of him, to make room for the steak the waiter had placed on the table.

"We should get two rooms," she corrected.

"Adjoining rooms," he amended.

"One more thing, Draco …what was the one thing you told the truth about today? The thing you said I didn't believe, earlier?" she asked him.

Should he tell her? She didn't want any more lies. "You asked me what I was doing in the woods today, and I answered you truthfully. I went into the woods to take care of a little problem, which was your entire fault to start with, so you can hardly be angry with me."

Her eyes opened wide, and she decided not to say any more on the subject.

After they ate they decided to go and get their rooms. They both wanted to take a small nap before they had to get ready for the wedding, which was still five hours away.

She was walking in her room when she turned and said, "Wake me in an hour, Malfoy. I want us to take a walk along the coastline before we have to go buy our clothes for tonight. That should leave us with enough time for our walk, our shopping, and to get showered and dressed."

"Do you have an itinerary to give me? In case I forget something?" he joked.

"I could draw one up quickly, if you'd like," she said, seriously. He brushed his hand on her cheek and laughed. He looked at her big brown eyes, and ivory skin, and all of the sudden he wanted nothing more than to shag her half-way to Sunday.

"Can I come in and nap with you?" he said, with ulterior motives.

"Sure, but only to nap," she said, as she took his hand and led him in her room. Draco thought, 'that was too easy'. As they entered her room he got that uncomfortable feeling in his nether regions again. He wanted to kiss her so badly. Just one little kiss, and then they could nap.

They walked into her room, and she put her coat and satchel on the sofa. Then she slipped off her shoes. She went into the bathroom and shut the door. He took his shoes and jacket off, and put them, and his coat, on the sofa next to her coat and satchel. He just thought of something. She had put her satchel in the boot of the car when they left this morning. That meant she saw the book. Excellent.

She walked out of the bathroom, and she said, "Should I call the concierge service, and ask then to wake us in an hour?"

Draco wanted to say, 'I don't plan on sleeping,' but instead he said, "I'll wake up in time. I'm a light sleeper." She sat down on the bed and he sat down next to her and took her hand.

"Just napping, Malfoy." She grinned.

"Can't I have one small little kiss?" he suggested.

She nodded in acceptance, he leaned toward her, with his hands still on the bed, and he kissed her on her mouth. He started to move his lips slowly, and she moved her head to a somewhat different angle. She put one of her hands on his neck. She turned toward him slightly. He put one hand on her back and the other on her neck. He sucked on her bottom lip. He pulled his face away to look at her. She had her eyes closed. She opened them, looked at him, and smiled sweetly. He wanted her so much. He pulled her back to him, and licked her lips gently with his tongue. She parted her lips slightly, and he continued to lick, until his tongue was in her mouth.

She moved closer. Maybe he pulled her closer. She had both her hands on the nape of his neck, pulling at the little hairs at the base of his skull. He pushed her down on the bed. They were side by side. He stopped kissing for a moment, and he leaned up on one elbow. She mirrored his body, and leaned up on one elbow as well, but facing him. He let his hand travel from her cheek, down her neck, and then down her arm. He held her hand. He brought her hand up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. Maybe he did have a hand fetish.

She took her hand from his and put it on his cheek. She copied his movements, except, when she got to his hand, instead of bringing it to her mouth; she brought it to her breast. Was she inviting him to do what he thought she was? He cupped her breast. He could feel how hard her nipple was, even through the fabric of her shirt and her bra. He pushed her down on her back. He kissed her jaw, and then her neck. He sucked on her collarbone. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse, and he kissed the swell of both breasts, which had peeked out from their hiding place.

He put his hand on her right breast, and brought his mouth back to hers. He felt fulfill and empty at the same time. He wanted to kiss her forever, but he wanted more. He fell back on the bed, to recline on his back, and he pulled her with him. Now she was partially on the bed, and partially on him. She kissed his ear and neck. She was trying not to put her full weight on him, which he thought was hilarious. She pulled his shirt from the waistband of his slacks, and put her hand up the shirt, to rest it on his abdomen. This was the biggest mistake Hermione Granger could have made. He moaned, and rolled from his back, so that she was on her back, and he was on top of her.

Soon, his hands and mouth were everywhere. So was hers. He went back to his back, and this time, she didn't care what he thought. She lay totally prone on top of him. She could feel his erection on her thigh. Her shirt was completely unbuttoned, and with her on top of him, her breasts were almost falling out of her bra. She hiked up her skirt, and straddled his stomach. She removed her shirt, and bent back down to give his a long and savage kiss. She reached around to remove her bra. He sat partially up. The best he could with her on his lap. She paused. 'Don't pause,' he thought. He wanted to see her bare breasts. He wanted to taste them. He wanted to ravage her all over. She slipped off his body, to lie on her back. She was breathing hard. He turned his face to look at her.

"What?" he asked through clenched teeth. What?

"Draco, we have to stop." She turned to look at him. He didn't want to stop. Neither did she, so why did they have to stop?

He sat up and moved to the opposite side of the bed. He sat with his back toward her. He looked down at himself. His shirt was gone, and his slacks were unbuckled, and unzipped. He had not even recalled that happening. He turned to look at her behind him, and saw that her shirt was completely gone, and her skirt was riding up her hips. He didn't even recall how they got this way. She was right. They had to stop now, or they never would.

"Are you angry?" she asked.

He stood up, and put on his shirt. He tucked it in his slacks. She was still on her back. Merlin, she was a goddess. He walked up to her and pulled her up by her hands, so she was standing next to him. "I hope you're happy, Miss Granger. My nap is all but an afterthought now, and instead of said nap, I must go take a cold shower instead. Thanks ever so much." He smiled at her and embraced her tight. Her bra covered breasts pressing against his shirt-covered chest certainly was not helping his resolve.

He started to walk out of her room, but turned back and said, "I don't suppose you're the type of girl to sleep on the first date, are you."

She laughed and walked up to him. She snaked both her arms around his neck, and stood on her tiptoes and kissed him with a sweet, but sensual kiss. "I think I might make an exception with you, Mr. Malfoy. After all, I've made you wait so long for the first date, I shouldn't make you wait for anything else, should I?"

He hugged her tight, and then kissed her back. He was really falling for this little witch. He said, "You better not be lying to me."

"You lie enough for both of us," she responded. She backed away from him and added, "Go have your shower. I might as well forget my nap, too. I'll see you downstairs in the lobby in an hour." He waved at her, and went through the door that connected their rooms. He walked over to his bed, and started to plop on it, when someone knocked on his outer door.

He went to answer, and there was a bellman. "I have a delivery for you sir, you need to sign here." He signed for the package, and brought it into his room. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in plain brown paper. Who even knew he was here? It was probably from Pansy. Maybe it was a bomb, or something. He regarded it wearily, and opened it cautiously. When he saw what it was, he laughed for a solid minute, and said, "HOT DAMN!" Well, round one has to go to Granger, he thought, as he took the copy of "**Hogwarts, a History"**and threw it on the sofa.


	7. 7 The Dress and The Apple

**All characters belong to JKR **

**Chapter 7: The Dress and the Apple:**

The clock on the bedside table said 2:45 pm. The wedding was at six. Hermione hadn't meant to fall asleep after her shower, but she did. She hadn't slept long, only thirty minutes, but it was enough that she was sure Draco had already gone down to the hotel boutique without her. She got dressed in a hurry and ran downstairs. Sure enough, Draco Malfoy was in the boutique, already holding a 'suit bag', and walking around looking at women's dresses.

Hermione ran up to him, and with shortness of breath, she said, "Hi."

"I thought we were meeting here after our showers?" he scolded.

"I took a quick nap. Sorry. Have you already gotten your outfit for tonight?" she asked, trying to unzip the suit bag.

"Hands off, Granger." He slapped at her hand.

"I just want to see." She tried to unzip the bag the second time.

He put the bag behind his back, and took a hold of her wrist and said, "I don't know where your hands have been, and I don't want my new suit soiled."

"You're a right bastard, you know that, Malfoy?" she seethed. She turned and started looking at dresses.

He placed his bag on the counter, and walked up behind her. He put his index finger on her spine, and ran it all the way down her back. She shuddered. She turned around and said, "Oh, I didn't know that was you."

"Who the hell else would be touching you like that?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. She turned away from him and smiled. He was so gullible. He came up behind her again, looked to his left, then to his right, to make sure no one saw him, and he pinched her bum. This time she jumped, and hit him hard on the arm. "Leave me alone," she hissed. She went to look at another rack, far away from him.

"Hey Granger, did I tell you that I received a package earlier?" He half shouted to her, while leaning on a wall.

"Really?" she asked in mock interest, "And pray tell, what was in this package?"

"Oh, I never opened it, so it's hard to say," he lied.

"Maybe it's something from Pansy. A make up gift. You should open it as soon as you get to the room," she said sweetly, knowing full well he had already opened it.

"I just might do that," he contended.

She picked up a dress and headed to the dressing room. "Granger!" he yelled.

"What?" she asked in an irritated voice.

"Try on this dress. It's a nice colour and will match my suit." He walked over to her and handed her a very pretty, lilac dress.

"How do I know if it matches? You won't let me see your suit," she complained. He handed her the dress, and walked over to the counter and unzipped the bag. Enclosed were a dark navy suit, and a lilac dress shirt.

"Are you masculine enough to wear a lilac shirt?" she teased.

"Of course, I'm very secure in my manhood," he answered.

She laughed one little laugh, and said, "It's just that, some people think you're a bit on the feminine side; But what do they know?"

"Who thinks that?" he demanded, really wanting to know. "If it's Potter and Weasley, they're just jealous because they have always secretly wanted me."

"HA!" she exclaimed. Then she asked, "Have you picked out a tie yet?"

He had already picked out a tie, and paid for it, but he told her, "No, maybe you could help me pick out one."

She looked at the ties on the tie rack, and held out a beautiful dark silvery grey silk tie. "This would look nice with the suit and the shirt, and would off set your eyes," she said. He was pleased that she would think of such things. For lack of a better word, he thought it was 'sweet' of her. He decided to buy this tie, and wear it tonight, instead of the one he picked out. He took it from her and put it on the counter.

She took her dress, ignoring the one he picked out, and went to the dressing room. He knew why she didn't want to try on the dress he picked out. He noticed that she looked at the price tags of each dress on the rack, before she even really looked at the dresses. The one she picked to try on was probably the least expensive in the shop. He had never looked at a price tag his entire life. The lilac dress he picked out was very expensive, he just noticed.

He walked over to the dressing room. He knocked on the door. He didn't wait for a response. "Let me see," he demanded. She opened the door, and she had on the blue dress, which was acceptable, but nothing special. "No, it's not right. Try on this one," and he handed her the lilac dress.

She peeked at the price tag, and handed it back and said, "I like this one. I don't even have to try on the other one. I'm getting this one." She walked back in and shut the door.

He knocked on the dressing room door again and said, "We'll look better together if you get the lilac dress."

Through the closed door she said, "Are you ashamed to be seen with me? After all, there will be many purebloods there tonight. You don't want to be embarrassed by your poor little Muggle born girlfriend, right?"

That comment made him glad, mad and sad all at the same time. Glad, because she called herself his girlfriend. Mad, because she was trying to tell him what he thought and sad because unfortunately, there was some truth to what she had said. "Sometimes I think you're a bigger bigot than what you think I am. You look down on purebloods. And, need I remind you, that the groom is Muggle born, so there'll be plenty of 'your' people there as well." He said that last part with disdain.

He opened the door, just as the blue dress she was trying on fell to the floor in a pool at her feet. She jumped, and tried to cover her chest. She had taken her bra off to try on the dress, and was standing there in only her knickers. "GET OUT!" she yelled, not even turning around. His reflection was staring at her reflection in the mirror. He walked up closer to her, and shut the dressing room door.

She turned to face him, still covering her breasts, and said quietly. "Leave, Malfoy. What will people think?" He knew what he was thinking. He imagined himself pushing her up against that mirror and making love to her.

Instead, he said, "Please try this dress on, Hermione." His voice cracked. Why did his bloody voice crack?

She took a step closer and said, "Turn around." He turned away from the mirror. She reached around him, to take the dress from his hand. She slipped it on, and said, "Will you zip me?"

He turned back around. He looked at her in the mirror. Again, he held her gaze. He stepped closer and pulled the zipper up slowly, letting his finger graze her skin on her back as he did. He was pained, just being this close to her, and smelling her intoxicating aroma. He put his face in her hair. She leaned back against him.

"You look beautiful," he said, although his eyes were shut. She turned to face him.

She said, "You look beautiful, too." This made him laugh. He pulled her closer to him, and kissed her longingly on her lips. Never taking it deeper, just a sweet, wet, kiss, which was a hint of what was meant to come.

"Get this dress," he urged.

She turned back around and looked at herself in the mirror. It _was_ a beautiful dress. She went to look at the price again, but couldn't see it, with it being on her body. He said, "Don't worry about the cost. Just get it."

"That's easy for you to say. You take money for granted. No, let me rephrase that. You take having money for granted." She turned to him and added, "Unzip me please." He shook his head no. "Please, Draco, I can't get this dress. I'm not made of money."

"Then unzip the bloody thing yourself," he huffed, and walked out of the dressing room. Hermione tried to unzip the dress, but couldn't get the damn thing started. She poked her head out of the dressing room, and only saw Draco. The salesclerk was talking to the hotel manager. She was going to ask the salesclerk to unzip her, when she thought of an evil thing to do, to get back at Malfoy.

"Hi, Jeff," she said, as she approached the hotel manager.

"Hermione, what are you still doing here?" he asked. He seemed pleased to see her.

"Oh, we got a last minute invite to the wedding tonight. I went to school with the groom, so I'm here trying on dresses. I was wondering, I can't seem to get this dress unzipped, do you mind?" and her voice trailed off. Draco's attention was immediately on her, and he was piqued. Damn that woman.

Jeff said, "Sure, turn around." Hermione turned away from Jeff, and Draco came up to her and grabbed her arm, unzipped her dress, and then practically pushed her into the dressing room. She walked out minutes later; holding both dresses, and saw that Jeff had left. She didn't see Draco either. She put the blue dress on the counter, and went to hang up the lilac one. She finally looked at the price tag again, as she hung it back up. It was 1,000 galleons! It was truly a very pretty dress. She fingered the material for a moment. She sighed, and wondered if she would ever have nice things. She left the dress on the rack, and turned to walk to the counter.

"I'll get this dress." Hermione smiled at the woman behind the counter.

"But the gentleman who was with you earlier already told me you were getting the other one. The one you just hung up. He said to charge it to your room. I'm sorry, I can return it, if you would rather have this one," the woman said.

She wouldn't rather have the blue one. The thing was that Hermione didn't know if she was paying for her own room, or if Malfoy was. When she didn't say anything for a moment, the clerk said, "Miss?"

"Have the lilac one wrapped up and delivered to my room, thanks," Hermione said, and walked out to the lobby. She walked around the lobby, looking for Draco. Where did he go? She wanted to take a walk with him along the shoreline before she had to get ready for the wedding. She walked past the reception desk, and picked up an apple that was in a large fruit bowl on a table in the entryway. She decided to take her walk alone. She slipped her coat on, and took a bite of her apple. She started down the path that traversed around the side of the hotel. The trail led to the sea.

She felt something hit her shoulder. She turned around, and not seeing anything, continued to walk. It was very cold outside. She pulled her coat closer around her, and started buttoning the front. She had walked a little farther, when she definitely felt something hit her on the head. She looked all around again. Still, she didn't see anyone or anything.

She had almost reached the beach when she felt something for the third time. This time, she saw whatever it was that hit her bounce off her head and land on the path. She kneeled down, and saw a grape, a white grape. Someone had thrown a grape at her. She stood up, and Malfoy was walking right past her, as if he hadn't a care in the world, whistling (which Hermione knew in her heart he knew she hated), and as he passed her, he popped a white grape in his mouth. Now he was in front of her on the path, walking to the shoreline. She looked down at the partially eaten apple that she still had in her hand, and decided to chuck it right at his head. She pulled back her arm, released the apple, and aimed right for the back of his head.

Fate had other plans.

Just as she released the apple from her hand, he turned around to face her. The apple hit him square on the nose, like a bull's eye. Blood immediately gushed; not flowed; gushed, from his nose. He put both hands up to his face and cried out in pain. Blood was spurting everywhere. He fell to his knees in pain. She rushed up to him, and took her wand out immediately and pointed it toward his nose. His eyes, which were watering from the pain, were shut automatically, because he thought she was going to curse him. He opened his eyes, the blood had ceased, and the pain had gone. She said another spell, and removed the blood from his face. The blood on his shirt, however, remained. She fell to her knees beside him, and pulled him tightly into an embrace, and said, "I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." She pushed him away, and looked at his face.

He actually thought the whole ordeal was highly amusing. He was throwing grapes at her head, after all. Therefore, she was within her rights to throw an apple at him. He just had no idea her aim would be so dead on.

When he still had not responded to her apologies, she got tears in her eyes and said, "Don't you forgive me? I said I was sorry." He grabbed her hand, stood them both up, and started to run, pulling her to the beach. When they reached the sand, she said, "Are you going to drown me?"

He turned to her and said, completely unabashed, "I think I love you."

"I just broke your nose, and you think you love me?" She seemed amused.

The sky was a dark blue. There where white, puffy clouds all around. The sea air was biting cold. The beach seemed clean, bright and pristine. The beach, at this time of year, was mostly abandoned. They found themselves alone. She walked away from him for a moment. Did he just say that he loved her?

He walked next to her and questioned, "Am I still beautiful, or have you permanently disfigured me?"

He had just said that he loved her, and now he wanted to know if he was still beautiful. He must have just said he loved her, flippantly. He meant he was happy that she healed him. That's it. Like, when you do something nice for someone, and they say, "I love you." That's not what they really mean.

She said, "Yes, you're still beautiful." He took her hand and they walked along the sandy beach together.

"Hermione, tell me how someone knows when they are in love?" He stopped walking, and suddenly sat down on the cold sand. She sat beside him. Maybe he did mean he loved her.

She looked him directly in the eye, and said, "Well for me, it's like this: when that person is the only person you think of, morning, noon, and night, then you love them. When you feel butterflies in your belly, just at the sight of them, then you love them. When the touch of their hand on yours causes enough electrical current that you could light the entire world, you're in love. When you laugh at their jokes, when they aren't even funny, but you're not being condescending, because you truly think they're hilarious, you're in love."

"When nothing else matters in the whole world, but being with them in the moment, you are in love. When just the thought of them makes you smile, or when you cannot picture yourself ever being with anyone else, and you want to be with them for all time, you're in love. And mostly, when their happiness comes before your happiness, and you know deep in your heart that you would rather cut off your right arm, than to hurt them, and it's more then just poetic license when you say that you would lay down your life for them, that means, my dear Malfoy, you are in love."

'Wow,' he thought. "I thought so," he said simply. They sat hand in hand, on the beach for many more minutes, before he asked, "Have you ever felt that way for someone before, Hermione?"

She turned to look at him, and he fell backward on the beach, bringing her down on top of him. She had her hands on his chest. The afternoon sun was dancing behind her head, bouncing off her hair, painting it with red and gold highlights. He had to squint one eye, for the sun was blinding him. He could see well enough to know that she was smiling at him. Her eyes were bright and appeared to be dancing. He had never seen a more beautiful woman. She leaned closer, still in his arms, and kissed him. That was her answer.

As they parted, he got up and gave her a hand, to help her up. They walked back up to the hotel, arm in arm, no words necessary. As they reached the end of the path, he turned her in his arms, and said, "I feel each and every thing you described down on the beach. Do you think that means I'm in love?"

"Only you can answer that one," she stated hesitantly.

They walked in the lobby and he asked, "Did you end up getting the lilac dress?"

"Before I answer, tell me, who's paying for our rooms?" she asked.

He knew why she was asking. So as a joke he said, "I told them to charge the rooms to Gringotts, why?"

She looked for one moment as if she believed him, and then gave him that look that meant, 'you're such a wanker,' so he said, "I'm paying for the rooms, happy? Now, are you getting that dress?"

"Yes, I told them to send it up to my room," she answered with a smile. "Although, I still think you take money for granted."

"I'm sure I do," he agreed. "I've never had to give money a second thought. But, I do wish you wouldn't always be so defensive about every little thing I want to give you, or do for you. If I can afford something, and it makes me happy, and makes you happy, what's the harm? Not everything has a hidden meaning. I just thought you would look pretty in that dress. You would look pretty in a pillowcase. You would look very pretty naked. It doesn't matter what you wear." He hugged her tight. Then he said, "It's just a dress. It's not as if I paid a million galleons for a copy of a book and gave it to you, or something."

"Yes, it's a very good thing you've never done that." She pulled away from him, and said, "If you ever did do something like that I would definitely have to return it to sender."

"Yes, well, it's a good thing that at the moment a book worth a million galleons is in my room, and not yours, wouldn't you agree, Granger?" He looked like he was up to something. She nodded.

They walked up to their rooms and entered through his. She said, "Are we staying here tonight, and then going back in the morning, or are we leaving tonight?"

"I thought we would stay tonight and apparate back in the morning," he told her, as he removed his suit jacket and shoes.

"The thing is, I have to go back and get my car sometime. If we aren't leaving until tomorrow, I want it brought back here for the night. I should apparate there and bring it back here. It should only take me about 20 minutes. That way, I can drive back to London tomorrow. I know my driving makes you nervous, so I don't want you to feel as if you have to drive back with me," she said with a smile.

He removed his shirt, and walked up to her and said, "Are you breaking up with me before we've even dated? Of course, I want to drive back with you tomorrow. I'll have one of the hotel staff bring your car back here. Go get your keys for me."

She left his room to enter hers. She retrieved her keys from her purse, when she saw that her dress had been delivered. It was in a big box with the name of the boutique written across the front. She looked over her shoulder for a moment, and then opened the box, to take another look at the pretty little dress. She removed the lid, and picked the dress up and held it up to her. That was when she saw "**Hogwarts, a History"** had been placed underneath the dress, partially wrapped in tissue paper. That little sneak. She put the box lid back on, and went to give him her keys.


	8. 8 The Love Scene

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 8: The Love Scene:**

He knocked on the door adjoining their rooms. The wedding was due to start in fifteen minutes. Draco was the type of person to be early for everything. He despised people who were always late. As if reading his mind, she promptly opened the door joining their rooms, and his mouth opened in awe. He was without words. She…looked…beautiful. No other word could describe her, yet one word was not enough.

She stepped into his room, and spun around, and asked, "So, do you approve?"

He raised his eyebrows in response. He offered his arm to her, and she accepted, and they went down to the wedding.

An hour later, they were sitting at a large round table in the ballroom, drinking champagne, eating canapés, and laughing at a story that Chad's Muggle cousin was regaling, about when he and Chad were children, Chad would make "funny things happen," without knowing how he did them. Hermione was now telling a similar story, about when she first discovered her magic. Everyone was having a grand time. Well, not everyone.

Pansy Parkinson was sitting at the main table, with the other members of the bridal party, staring daggers at Draco Malfoy. She didn't know what was worse; his disinterest in her, or his interest in the Mudblood.

Draco stood up and asked Hermione to dance. She gladly accepted. A Muggle song came on.

"This is a very pretty song," Draco commented.

"It was one of my mum's favourite," Hermione reminisced. She put her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms tight around her body. They swayed together, in time to the music, their hearts beating as one. This was right. Draco knew this was right. Hermione knew it as well.

She smiled, but didn't bring her head up from his chest. She wanted to make love to him. So what if they hadn't really gone out on a date yet. She knew what she felt for him, and she thought she knew what he felt for her.

She looked up at him, to tell him this, but he had suddenly stopped dancing and was staring at something over Hermione's shoulder. She turned in his arms, and saw Pansy Parkinson running straight for them. Before Hermione knew what hit her, Pansy hit her. She actually hit her! Pansy, the pureblood bitch, hit Hermione right in the jaw! Hermione's eyes began to water, and she let out a yelp of pain. What the hell? The next thing she knew, Pansy grabbed Hermione's dress and ripped it down the front, so that it hung in shreds, barely covering her now crying form.

Hermione was shocked, upset, hurt, and embarrassed, all at the same time. Draco had to be restrained, for he went directly for Pansy. Several wizards and witches had gotten out their wands. Most of the Muggles hid behind tables and chairs. The groom himself ran up to Hermione and threw his jacket over her ripped garment.

Pansy was screaming incoherent things. Hermione was rushed to a table by some good Samaritans and given some water to drink. Finally, one of the bride's relatives hexed Pansy into submission. The bride ran up to Hermione to offer her apologies. Hermione offered hers. Draco came up to Hermione, and pulled her into a hug. "Please, get me out of here," she said. He took the groom's coat from her shoulders, wrapped her in his, and picked her up and carried her up to their room.

_Actually, none of that happened_.

Hermione was indeed dancing in Malfoy's arms. They were indeed at the wedding reception. She was just going to tell him that she wanted to make love to him, but the rest was just a figment of Hermione's imagination. The reason her imagination was in overdrive, was because Pansy was possibly giving Hermione the dirtiest looks anyone had ever given Hermione in her life.

"Hermione?" Draco whispered in her ear.

"Hmmm?" she hummed in response.

"Could we please count this as our first date?" he asked seductively in her ear. "That way, I can have my evil way with you tonight."

When Hermione never answered Draco's question, he let it be. He would ask again later. She probably didn't hear him, when he asked if this could be their first date.

When the song was over, Hermione suggested they go back to their safe little table, and talk to their new safe little friends. She was afraid if she stayed on the dance floor, her 'vision' just might come true.

Draco could sense that Hermione seemed distant.

He leaned over to her and said, "Hey, I have an idea, let's count this as our date, and that way I can have my evil way with you tonight." He was going to ask her again later, and this was later, if only by fifteen seconds.

What? Hermione didn't hear a word Draco had said to her. Instead, she looked up quickly to see if Pansy was rushing toward them, and when she saw she was still glaring at them from her perch at the Bride's table, Hermione felt somewhat relieved.

"Hermione, did you hear me?" Draco asked, still a little concerned.

"Can you see if you could get me some ice water?" Hermione asked. She felt parched. Her throat was so dry; it was going to close any minute. Draco waved down one of the servers, and asked for the water.

Draco handed Hermione her water. She was staring at Pansy. Had something occurred between the two of them that he was not aware?

Just then, Pansy started toward them. Hermione actually spilled her water, and hid under the table. Had she had too much champagne tonight? Was she getting tipsy? These thoughts went through his mind, as he joined her under the table.

"Did you lose something?" he asked, bemused by her actions.

"I'm hiding from Pansy," she told him.

"May I ask why?" he asked, baffled.

"I'm afraid she wants to kick my arse," Hermione said. She even thought that sounded funny.

He laughed at her and asked, "What made you come to that conclusion?"

"When we were dancing earlier, I saw her glaring at us, and all of the sudden I had a vision that she had come over and she started to kick my arse." She proceeded to tell Draco all about her 'vision'.

"So," Draco began, "you're a seer now? How many of these visions of yours have come true, Granger."

"I don't believe in that rubbish," she smirked.

"Then get up from under the table. You're going to get my dress dirty," he concluded.

"It's my dress," she corrected him.

"I paid for it, so it's mine," he explained.

"Will you protect me from Pansy?" she pleaded in a small voice, only half-joking.

"Yes, now let's get out from under the table," he confirmed. He scooted out from under the table, and offered her his hand. As they got up to stand, Draco was drenched in champagne, which came from Pansy Parkinson's champagne flute. Hermione decided to stay under the table. Let Draco and Pansy fight, it was more of a fair fight.

"What the hell?" Draco yelled.

"You are despicable, Draco Malfoy!" Pansy yelled. "How could you pick some little Mudblood over me?" Suddenly, the whole ballroom fell to a hush, and every eye was drawn to the bickering couple.

"Grow up, Pansy," Draco said in haste, shaking off the champagne.

"Draco, I thought we were good together. I thought you loved me." Pansy had started to cry. She was apparently drunk.

"I never once in all the years that I known you told you that I loved you, and I'll remind you, you've never said that you've loved me, either," Draco spat.

Pansy was crying. "Well, I do love you. So help me, I do. And what do you do? You bring trash like Hermione Granger here to flaunt the fact that you don't love me in return." Hermione was angry. She stood up from her hiding place, and went to stand beside Draco.

"You're the biggest bastard in the world," Pansy continued, "and you two deserve each other. Trash deserves trash!"

Hermione did not know what got into her, but, she pulled back her fist, and hit Pansy straight in the jaw, and this time, it was real. This was not a daydream.

Pansy fell to the ground, out cold. The crowd erupted in applause. Draco turned to Hermione, in complete unadulterated admiration, and said, "Your 'vision' was almost right, Granger."

Hermione held her hand, for it really, really hurt. She hadn't hit someone since third year at school, and that person was Draco Malfoy, and that was actually a slap, but this time felt almost as good as that time did.

_**FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, OUTSIDE THE LADIES ROOM:**_

"How does your hand feel?" Draco asked.

"It's okay. I shouldn't have done that, although it felt really good," Hermione said, as she walked out of the ladies room.

Draco asked, "Did it feel as good as that time you slapped me, back in school?"

"Actually," Hermione said with a sly smile, "that felt better. That's one of my happiest childhood memories. Oh and when I found out about Hogwarts. What was your happiest childhood memory?"

"I'm not sure I have any," he said truthfully, but when he saw the look of pity in her eyes, he said, "For Merlin's sakes, I just meant they were all about the same. Okay? Anyway, I'm making enough happy memories now to last a lifetime."

She rolled her eyes and said, "You're such a sap."

Draco elaborated: "Yes, someday, when I'm old and still blonde, I'll tell my grandchildren that I once had a beautiful woman in my arms, and we danced all night at a wedding reception, and then we went back to my room and had mad, passionate sex."

"You're going to tell your grandchildren that?" She seemed appalled.

"Well, I don't see the harm," he said, "After all, whatever happened before I met their grandmother isn't really that big of a deal."

She caught his meaning. She was not part of that story. She said, "So in your memory, I'm just some woman you slept with?"

"And danced with," he corrected her.

"Then what happens in your story?" she inquired.

"You turn into a pumpkin at midnight, and I bake you into a pie," he said. Then he laughed at his own joke.

"You're stupid, and in the real story, the carriage turns into the pumpkin, not the girl," she laughed.

"You tell your story your way, I'll tell my story mine," Draco gloated.

_**TEN MINUTES LATER, ON THE DANCE FLOOR:**_

As soon as they hit the dance floor, Hermione said, "You known, I have two left feet."

"Well," Draco said back, "I have two right feet, so we're a match made in heaven."

As they were dancing, Hermione said, "Remember when we were at the auction, and you helped me with my shoe? You called me Cinderella. I really do feel like Cinderella tonight. I feel like you're my fairy godmother, and you got me this beautiful dress, and then I got to dance with the prince at the ball."

"I'm the prince and the fairy godmother?" he asked with a smirk. "What happens next in your story? Do I turn into a pumpkin at midnight, and you bake me in a pie?"

"That's your version, remember?" she reminded him. "In my version, the prince stays a prince."

"And you called me a sap," he said.

_**TWENTY-TWO MINUTES LATER, AT THE BUFFET TABLE:**_

Hermione was filling a plate with some food, and Draco came up behind her and poked her on her side. She jumped, startled, and dropped her fork. "You scared me," she stated.

"You scare quite easily," he said, as he hugged her from behind. "First, you were scared of the thunder, and then you were scared when I accosted you in the alleyway, and now this. Maybe you need counseling." He kissed her neck. She handed him her plate, and they sat down at a table.

_**FIVE MINUTES LATER, AT THEIR TABLE, IN THE BALLROOM:**_

"What happened to your mum?" Draco asked, taking a bite of her food.

"She had a brain aneurysm. It ruptured, and she had a massive stroke, and three days later, she died," Hermione said.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

"Me too," she responded.

_**THIRTY-TWO MINUTES LATER, OUT IN THE HALLWAY:**_

Hermione and Draco were both sitting in the hallway, drinking champagne. Hermione asked, "What do you think is your best quality, and what is your worst quality?"

Draco answered, "Well, my hair is my best."

"You're so, so shallow." Hermione shook her head.

"And that's my worst," he laughed. "Same question to you."

"Well, maybe I should say my hair is my worst…" she began, when he interrupted.

"I like your hair. Don't say disparaging remarks against it. I have come to regard it as a close, personal friend. It's soft and beautiful, and I have always liked it," Draco said, taking another drink.

She looked at him wearily, and said, "I don't really think it's my hair. Wait, you've always liked my hair. Since when? You made fun of it in school, as I recall." He merely shrugged his shoulders. She continued, "My best quality is my passion for things I care about. My worst is, well…I can't think of one," she joked.

"And therefore, that is your worst. You think you're perfect," he said in jest.

She pushed his shoulder and he actually fell over. She laughed so hard that champagne almost came out of her nose.

_**SEVENTEEN MINUTES LATER, OUT ON THE PATIO:**_

Hermione was shivering. They came outside to sober up a bit. She had his jacket around her shoulders, but the night air still had a bite. They were sitting, side by side, on an iron bench. "What was your favorite story growing up?" Draco asked her. "Cinderella?"

"No, it was The Wizard of Oz," she answered.

"Is that a fairy tale? I've never heard of that one," he asked.

"No, it's a children's book," Hermione told him. "It's a Muggle book, so you wouldn't have heard of it."

"It's a Muggle book, about a wizard?" Draco seemed confused.

"The wizard ends up just being a regular man in the end," she told him.

"Tell me about this Wizard of Oz?" He smiled.

She explained the story to him, and when she was done, she said, "You know, Harry always reminded me of the scarecrow. He was my favourite character."

"And of course, you're the heroine, Dorothy," Draco concluded.

Hermione answered, "But, of course, and Ron would be the lion."

"If you say I'm the dog, I will knock you right off this bench and on your arse," Draco said, being defensive.

She was going to say the dog, but then when she thought about it for a moment, she said, "No, you would be the tin man. Hard and cold on the outside, and to all appearances, without a heart; but deep inside there's a heart of gold, which was there all along."

He frowned and she smiled. "Of us two, you are definitely the biggest sap," he said, although secretly he liked her analogy.

_**EIGHT MINUTES LATER, OUT ON THE DANCE FLOOR ONCE AGAIN:**_

"What do you like the best about magic?" Draco asked her, as he danced with her in his arms.

"Do you have a lifetime?" she mused, "Because it would take me that long to tell you everything I love about Magic."

He held her closer, and moved to the music and thought, 'I could give her a lifetime.'

_**ONE HOUR LATER, OUT IN THE LOBBY OF THE HOTEL:**_

Draco was sitting on a couch in the lobby, and Hermione was on her side, with her head in his lap. He was stroking her hair. She had started to feel dizzy; too much drink and dance, so he suggested that she rest on the couch. She looked up at him and asked, "What do you like best about me? Physically, and as a person on the whole?"

"Well, I like your face and your body; physically," he said, looking down into her eyes.

"That's two things," she reminded, "and, that's so shallow. But, we've already determined earlier that you are undeniably shallow."

"You asked a pretty shallow question, so my answer is bound to be shallow as well, and your face is on your body, so that counts as one thing," he surmised. Then he finished with, "I also really like your mind. That's what I like about you the most. Now, you answer."

She took the hand that was stroking her hair, and held it up for examination. She said, "I really like your hands. They're strong, with long fingers, and you can see all the veins, tendons, and muscles. They're well defined. Like one of those drawings by DaVinci." She looked up at him, and he seemed surprised.

"And you thought I had the hand fetish," he joked. "Most women say they like my eyes the best. So what do you like the best about me, as a whole person?"

"Your irritating sense of humour," she concluded.

"If you think it's irritating, then how could you like it?" he asked.

She said, "Irritating, in a good way, I mean."

_**THIRTEEN MINUTES MORE, BACK AT THEIR TABLE ONCE AGAIN:**_

Hermione yawned. She put her head down on the table. He put his head down as well, and stared into her eyes. She shut hers. He sat back up and reached over for her. He pulled her onto his lap. She came without complaint. He put his arms around her, and said, "Tell me your perfect date."

She answered, with her eyes still closed, "Why? You'll never take me on one, so why do you want to know."

He didn't like that answer. He wanted her to say that tonight was the perfect date. That's what he would have said. "Why do you think we'll never have our date?" he asked.

"All signs point to that conclusion," she said, shifting slightly in his lap, so that her head was now in the crook of his neck.

He leaned forward, to take another drink of wine. He leaned back and kissed the top of her head. "If you would have asked me that question, I would have said tonight was the perfect date."

She opened her eyes, suddenly not tired, and got off his lap. She sat in a chair next to him. "Are you just saying that because I told you we could sleep together after our first date?" she asked, with one eyebrow raised.

"No, I said that because I meant that. I always say what I mean." He was seriously peeved. How dare she question his intentions and statements? He took another drink of wine. He offered her a drink from his glass.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked.

"That seems like the only way I'll ever get you to sleep with me," he said with scorn. He stood up, and walked away from the table. He walked over to the patio doors.

Hermione came up to him, and wrapped one arm around his waist and said, in a deep, mocking voice, "Hello, My name is Draco Malfoy, and I'm not getting my way, so I'm going over to the corner to pout."

"Go have some more wine," he demanded, still angry with her.

"You really are trying to get me inebriated, aren't you?" she asked. "What would you get out of having sex with me if I was drunk?"

"SEX!" he answered.

"I forgot," she said, "sex is just sex to you, right. Sex with me would be no different then sex with Pansy, right?"

"No, there's a different. Pansy actually would have sex with me. You just want to talk me to death, and tease me with the hope that it might some day happen," he mocked with an air of offense.

She excused herself to go back to the ladies room.

_**SEVEN MINUTES MORE, BACK AGAIN TO THE PATIO:**_

Hermione walked out to the patio, and put her arms around herself. He threw his cigarette down, and took his jacket off once again, to put on her shoulders.

"You know a mouth that has touched a cigarette, will never touch my mouth," she said in a light and breezy tone.

"Well, a mouth that has been on Weasel's wood will not touch my wood," he said to be crude.

"Who says I would ever want to have my mouth on your 'wood' anyway, Pinocchio?" she said in a mocking tone.

"Seriously, who is this Pinocchio chap you keep talking about?" he asked.

She ignored him, and said, "Seriously, you shouldn't smoke. You'll die."

"That should be the warning on the package, 'Smoke this and die'. I bet more people would heed the warning if it was that blunt." He laughed.

She took a long look at him, and said, "You smoke Muggle cigarettes?"

"Yes, best damn thing they've ever invented," Draco said.

"So much better than the light bulb, the phonograph, the motion picture camera, which, I'll tell you, were all invented by the same Muggle," Hermione spouted.

"Thomas Edison," Draco said, and stuck out his tongue. "See, I'm smart too."

"Let's go back inside," she suggested.

_**JUST A FEW MINUTES LATER, BACK IN THE HALLWAY:**_

Draco asked, "You don't have any brothers and sisters do you?"

"No, my mum had three miscarriages before I was born and one stillborn after I was born," Hermione said.

"Maybe your dad and Bernice will have some kids, and then you will have some little brothers and sisters," he joked.

"Bite your tongue!" she yelled.

"I would rather bite yours," he said, and he took her in him arm, and kissed her hard.

_**THREE MINUTES MORE, IN THE LIFT, HEADING TO THEIR ROOMS:**_

"Draco," Hermione said, "you shouldn't have brought that bottle of wine with you. It's for the party guests."

"That includes us," he told her. Then, out of the blue, he said, "What's your favourite flower?"

"I like daisies," she answered.

He must have made a funny face he wasn't even aware of, because she slapped his arm. He then said, "Daisies are so plain and common."

"So am I," she said in a small voice.

"There's nothing plain and common about you, Granger. You're a multi-dimensional, complex, beautiful woman. Now, have some wine." He put the wine in her hand. She was beginning to think he really did want her drunk, to take advantage of her.

_**TWO MINUTES LATER, OUTSIDE DRACO'S HOTEL ROOM DOOR:**_

"Granger, where's my wand?" Draco asked, as he stood outside his room, looking for his wand, so he could unlock his door.

"Is that your wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Hermione asked, and then had a sudden outburst of giggles at her own little joke. Draco laughed as well. She was getting tipsy.

"You're so drunk," he slurred.

"Nah, you are," she slurred back.

_**ONE MINUTE LATER, IN HER BATHROOM:**_

Draco was sitting on her bathroom vanity. Hermione was brushing her teeth. He had never seen someone take so long to brush their teeth. She put her toothbrush down, finally, put her hair back in a ponytail, and started to wash her face. He leaned forward, and pulled hard on her hair.

"Ouch!" Hermione yelped. "Why did you do that?"

"All boys pull the hair of the girls they like," he answered.

"Yes, when they're eight years old," she said.

He came up behind her, as she was rinsing off her face. He handed her a towel, and she blotted her face dry. She turned around and put her hand on his cheek. He picked her up and put her on the vanity. The first thing he did was to take her hair out of the ponytail. He stood between her knees, and pushed her dress up. His hand played along the top part of her thigh. He started to kiss her neck. Her head fell back, to give him more access. His right hand was still traveling up her thigh. His left hand was around her waist.

Her legs were almost wrapped around him, he was standing that close. The hand that was on her thigh was now on her stomach. He started to play with the elastic of her knickers. She leaned back on the vanity, and hit her head on the mirror. He put his left hand firmly on her back, and he was kissing her lips, playing with them, and teasing them.

He put that same hand behind her, and while he was kissing her collarbone, he unzipped her dress. It fell off her shoulders. His mouth traveled down to the swell of her breasts. He wanted to taste her, so he did. His mouth kissed her right breast, while his hand enveloped the other. She tried to put her legs together. Not out of embarrassment, but because of the feeling he was evoking in her. She pushed him away, for just a moment, and she hopped down off the vanity. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and led him to her bed. She stood before the bed, and let her dress drop down the rest of the way. He thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Were they really going to do this? He pinched her. She said, "What?"

He laughed and said, "I want to make sure this is real." He slipped out of his clothes. She removed her last barrier. They were standing just a few paces from each other, completely naked, and just staring at each other.

He wanted to captivate her mind and soul. He decided that instant that was what he would do. She came closer and touched his chest. She touched him so lightly, he thought for a moment his skin must be burning her fingers. He ran one hand down the middle of her chest, to her navel, and then beyond. He put both hands on her shoulders, brought her closer, and kissed her again.

Their bodies fit perfectly together. This was meant to be. Her breasts were hard up against his chest. He was hard up against her belly. Her delicate hands were everywhere. He grabbed her, and almost threw her on the bed. He started to kiss her all over. His breath was warm and erotic against her skin. She whimpered and said his name.

He looked up at her, and her head was going side to side. "Say my name again," he said. She moaned his name. He moaned hers. He dropped his mouth to capture her lips again. He pulled his head up; he wanted to see her face. Her head was back on the pillow. She looked at him, and brought her head up and bit his shoulder.

His hand was still playing its own melody; to bring her to her final reward. He didn't want her to finish without him. She was bringing her hips up, and he decided it was time. He brought his face back level with hers and said, "Look at me, look at me." She opened her eyes, and almost looked as if she was in pain.

If this was love, then he had been missing a lot in his life. Sex was never this good. He entered her, in one swift motion, and he knew this was different. This was different from every other time he had had sex.

She loved the feel of his hard muscles on her body. The feel of his hands, and mouth, and skin against hers. She thought he was about to undo her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, to grant him deeper access. Her legs were beginning to spasm from the weight of him, and from her desire. This was so much more than she had ever felt before.

They were both close to their apex. He quickened his strokes. He came out of her completely, just for a moment. He wanted to slow down. He didn't want it to end so quickly. She almost looked like she was going to cry. He entered her again, and that was all she wrote. That was his end. He shuddered on top of her, and she quickly followed. He fell on his stomach beside her, and he could barely breathe. She lay on her side, with her legs almost up to her stomach. Her breathing was as hard as his. He reached for her, with one arm, and pulled her closer. He moved to his back, and pulled her to his side. He wasn't letting her go, maybe not ever.

When they were both finally at peace with what had happened, he said, "See, I knew if I got you drunk enough, I could have my way with you."

She was drawing little circles on his chest, and she said, "Actually, you played into my hand, because this was my plan all along." She leaned up and kissed him. "Go get me one of your t-shirts to wear. I don't like sleeping naked." He laughed, but went to do what she said. He went into his room, and grabbed the t-shirt he had on earlier today. He smelled it first, to make sure it didn't smell bad. He came back into her room, and threw it to her.

She got up, with the t-shirt covering her body, and said, "I'm going to get a quick shower." He tried to grab the t-shirt away from her body, but she quickly ran into the bathroom. When she got in the bathroom, she put his t-shirt up to her face and smelled. It smelled like him. She smiled. He heard the shower start. He went to his room to get a shower as well.

When he was done, he went back into her room, but still heard her in her shower. How long of a shower did she usually take? He turned off the light in his room, and thought he would lie back on his bed, until she was out of the shower, and then he would join her in her bed. He didn't mean to fall asleep.

Around four in the morning he woke up when he felt her entering his bed. She must have missed him. He was still half-asleep, and it was very dark in his room, but he knew he wasn't imagining what she was starting to do to him. Who knew she had 'that' in her? He tried to put his hands in her hair, but she took them and put them over his head, and then kissed his mouth for the briefest moments.

Merlin that felt good. Her mouth was completely covering him. She was going up and down, and he was already close to the edge. He never imagined she would be that good at this. He thought he would have to coax her into this type of thing. He was at his breaking point and he yelled, "HERMIONE!" His legs started to shake, and he yelled again, "Merlin, HERMIONE!"

Hermione was in her room, fast asleep, when she thought she heard Draco yell, "Hermione!" She sat up in bed. She listened closely, and then she definitely heard, "Merlin, Hermione!" She sprang from her bed, grabbed her wand, and ran to the door that joined their rooms. Something was wrong with Draco! Her heart was beating out of her chest. She was scared for him. She ran into his room and turned on the lights.

There, in front of her, was Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, and he seemed to be enjoying what she was doing to him very much!

As soon as the lights came on, and he saw Hermione standing in the doorway with her wand, he thought, "OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT!" He looked down and saw Pansy head and he pushed her off him, scrambled off the bed, and landed on the floor. Then he saw Hermione's face. She looked like someone had stabbed her. She left the room, turning quickly, and slammed the door shut.


	9. 9 The Mistake

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 9: The Mistake:**

Hermione felt numb. She locked the door that adjoined their rooms with magic. Then she sat with her back against it and started to cry. She could hear Draco on the other side of the door, calling her name. She couldn't get the picture of him and Pansy out of her mind. How could he make love to her, and then turn right around and do that with Pansy. Sex wasn't just sex, not to Hermione. Did he even care about her at all?

He seemed genuinely shocked that he was caught in the act. Of course, he was going to be caught! He left the door between their rooms ajar, and he had called her name. She continued to rock back and forth, crying. He was still on the other side of the door, calling her name.

Draco sat on the other side of the door, with his hand on the door, calling for Hermione to please let him in the door. Pansy had already left. She did what she intended. She wanted Draco to think she was Hermione, and she wanted Hermione to think Draco knew what was happening. How did everything turn out so wrong? The look in Hermione's eyes was one he would never forget, his entire life. He thought it was she in his bed. However, how could he possibly tell her that? She would never believe that. Not in a million years. Fate was so cruel, to give him someone like her and then to come and snatch her away again.

She had fallen asleep, curled up in a ball by the door. Hermione stood up. It was morning. She knew he had fallen asleep as well, for she heard him softly snoring. She hated Draco Malfoy. She hoped he would rot in hell. She went into the bathroom, showered, and then dressed. She would leave the hotel before he did. She didn't want to see him. Ever. That would be difficult. She would have to see him, because of her job. She didn't want to quit her job, not because of him. Seriously, she would never forgive him.

Draco finally woke up. The events of the evening flooded his mind. He had the best night of his life with her last night, which ended with them making love, (the best sex he had ever had). Then, it all came crashing down. He stood up and put his ear back to the door. He wondered if she was awake yet. He knew she had fallen asleep by the door. He stayed awake until he heard her tears finally cease. He went to the bathroom. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He had never felt self-loathing before. However, he felt it now. He hated himself, probably as much as she hated him. He rubbed his hands over his face. He opened the shower curtain. He needed to wash Pansy off him. As he opened the curtain, he saw "the book" suspended magically, bounded by a gold ribbon, hanging from the showerhead. There was a note attached.

The note read:

_This is your payment for our wonderful 'date' last night._

_Thanks for everything. Thanks for showing me that sex is not _

_Just sex. Even if you can't say it outright to me, I want to let _

_You know that I really do love you. I'll see you in the morning. _

_I look forward to earning this book back, Mister! _

_Love, your Hermione._

_p.s. You can't beat me! I will win the war of the book. I am the champion!_

Hermione was the champion. She was the best, and nothing, nothing, would ever change that. Also, she said that she loved him.

He took the book down from its magical cord. He put it his chest, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He knew just what to do. But, before he could execute his plan for the book, he needed to desperately clean his conscious and his soul, so he could win her heart once again. He got in the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could.

Hermione walked down the hall, toward the lobby. She intended to get in her car and drive directly back to London. Things weren't as bad as they seemed. She had no claim over Malfoy. He could have sex with as many people as he wanted. She cringed when she thought about what she wrote on her note, which she attached to the book last night. She told him that she loved him in that note. Last night, she had entered his room after her shower, and after he was asleep. That's when she put the book in his shower. The stupid note! She proclaimed her love for him in that stupid note! And he had sex with Pansy right after. He said sex with Pansy didn't mean anything. And he practically declared his love for Hermione yesterday. She didn't imagine all of that. He was a bit drunk. Maybe he didn't mean to do anything with Pansy.

She was more confused than ever - and why was she giving him excuses? There was no excuse for what he did, was there?

All the men in her life let her down at one time or another. When she was going out with Ron, he had a fling with one of his co-workers. Like Malfoy, he told her it was just sex and didn't mean anything.

Her father went and married that slag Bernice, and only a year after her mum died. And he wanted Hermione to deny her birthright, and pretend she was a Muggle, so not to embarrass him.

Then there was Malfoy. She had fallen so fast and so hard for him. That was her fault, not his. He had made her no promises. She laughed at the irony that they had never really even gone out on a 'real date'.

She was going to get in her car, and leave this place immediately, and forget the last 24 hours ever happened. How in the world was she going to face him? How could she work side by side with him on the "Spring Fling", with the knowledge of everything that had transpired between them?

She was in the car park, looking for her car, when she spotted Draco Malfoy leaning up against the hood. He didn't look angry. He didn't look sad. If anything, Hermione would classify his look as "apathetic". She came up to him and looked closely at his face. She looked in his cold, grey eyes. He had no expression, so she tried to have no expression. He didn't say a word, so she remained quiet as well. She walked around to the driver's side, and opened the door. He came up behind her and slammed it shut. She turned to face him, but still didn't say a word. She turned back around and opened the door the second time. He again put both hands on the window, and slammed it shut. After the third try, and the third slam, she turned to face him with narrow eyes. She withdrew her wand, but he was quicker. He disarmed her. He took her wand, and put it in his pocket.

Hermione was very upset now, but tried to remain cool and collected. She walked over to the passenger side, and tried to open that door. He came up behind her and picked her up by the waist, and deposited her a few steps away. Then, he opened the door, on the passenger side, and he slipped in and sat down. Where did he think he was going?

She opened that door, but he pulled it shut. This was getting old. She opened it one more time; she was going to pull him out of her car by his hair. This time, he grabbed her arm and wouldn't let go. She slipped out of his grasp, and he grabbed the closest thing he could, which was the hem of her skirt. He then pulled the door shut, locked it, and the whole time her skirt was stuck in the door. He smirked. She hated his smirk.

Let her try to get away now, he thought. She was smarter than he was, though. He always underestimated her. She took her coat off, unzipped her skirt, and shimmed out of the damn thing, and left it hanging out of the car door. She just had on her knickers, stocking, and blouse. He looked at her, and said, "Are you serious?" She gave him a rude hand gestured, and picked her coat back up and slipped it over her shoulders, and buttoned it all the way down, to cover her body.

He sat in her car, contemplating his next move. She was smart, he would give her that. He lifted his head to look at her, and she was sitting on the hood of the car. Her back was to him. She looked defeated. He opened the car door, and slowly walked around to her. He handed her the skirt.

He sat on the car hood next to her. Should he say all the things he wanted to say? Would she be receptive, and listen? He was going to take the chance.

"Hermione?" he said.

She turned to look at him.

"Please forgive me. I was an idiot. I really didn't know it was she. I had just made love to you, not sex, made love, and I was in a dead sleep, and she crawled into my bed, and when I woke up, the first thing I thought was that it was you. She didn't speak the whole time. It all happened so fast. I even called out your name. I swear, I thought it was you."

She walked away from him, and got in her car. She threw the skirt in the backseat. She just sat there. So did Draco. He sat on the hood, and didn't turn around once to look at her. He didn't know what to do. He was knocked out of his stupor, when she honked the horn. He jumped off the hood and whipped around to look at her. She leaned over and opened the passenger side door. He didn't smile, even though he wanted to. Just because she was going to let him in her car, didn't mean she forgave him. He walked around to the car and slipped in.

She started the engine, then turned to him, and said, "Put on your seatbelt."

He did. She backed out of the space, and started down the road. He kept sneaking peeks at her. They had been in the car about ten minutes, when she said, "Now you need to listen to me, because I listened to you. I really do believe you. I do. But, that doesn't mean everything is okay between us. I need some time to think about things. We need to get along, because of our professional relationship, but as far as our personal relationship goes, well, we'll just have to see."

She suddenly pulled to the side of the road, and stopped the car. "We didn't even start this dating thing out normal. We started all backwards. We felt things too fast and too extreme. We need to slow down. Go about things at a normal pace. Figure out what we really feel for each other. If you can agree to that, we can start over fresh."

She was amazing. He really thought she was amazing. She wasn't going to torture him. She accepted what he said, and forgave him. The thing was, though, he didn't want to start back at the beginning. He already knew what he wanted out of this relationship. But, it was a little thing in which to concede.

"I want us to have something real, Hermione. I won't compromise what I feel for you, but I'm willing to do what you ask for now," he said. She nodded.

"Let's get back. I have a lot of work to do, and I'm sure you do as well," she said, as she started the car.

"Hermione, if we're going to start this relationship anew, then may I ask you out on a date for tonight?" he asked, tentatively.

She smiled slightly and said, "I don't sleep with men on the first date."

"That's all right. That's what Pansy's for," he joked. She glared at him. Okay, too soon to make jokes about the whole thing. "Remember, you said you liked my irritating sense of humour," he reminded her.

She fumed for a moment, but then said, "I've decided I don't like your sense of humour, not one bit. Furthermore, I would like to accept your offer for a date, Mr. Malfoy, but I'll tell you something, I'm not a cheap date. You better be prepared to do something pretty spectacular."

Oh, he had something special planned indeed.

They drove the rest of the way home in silence. Hermione pulled her car into her driveway. She looked over at Draco, and said, "I'm taking the day off, but I'll have my assistant schedule a meeting with you for Monday, and I'll give you the final details for the gala."

"Fine, fine," he answered, "that takes care of the professional side. Now, for the personal side, I'll pick you up here tonight at 7:52, okay?" he said, getting out of her car. Her brows knitted together in confusion when she thought, '7:52'?

She got out of the car as well, and said, just to be difficult, "Can we make it 7:48, instead?"

He laughed and said, "You have to be in control of everything, don't you. I'll see you at 7:48." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She started in her house, and turned back to look at him. He had not yet apparated away. She dropped her purse and satchel, and ran up to him and threw her arms around him. She hugged him close. He put his arms around her as well, in shock.

She whispered in his ear, "If you have sex with Pansy Parkinson again, I'll cut off your testicles and stuff them up your arse." She leaned away from him and smiled sweetly. He watched her enter her house, and looked down at this pants. She scared him sometimes. She really did.

Hermione entered her back door and started toward her living room. She was shocked beyond belief at what greeted her. The room was filled with hundreds, or possibly thousands, of daisies. They filled the room with their sweet fragrance. She could barely walk through a path. She walked up to one and twirled it in her fingers. She went up her stairs, and was greeted with more and more daisies. She walked in her bedroom, where there were no daisies, not even one. In here, however, on the middle of her bed, wrapped in a big read bow, was "**Hogwarts, a History"**. She slipped off the bow, and opened the front cover. An envelope fell out. She opened the envelope, and a piece of paper flew out. It flew around her head, like a butterfly. It finally landed on her knee. She opened the paper, and it said, "I love you." She grinned so large, that she thought her face might crack. She fell back on her bed, opened the book, and started reading. He loved her! She might just keep the damn book after all.

Around 5:00 pm, Hermione decided she should get ready for her date. She had been reading her book (that's what she now felt it was…her book), for seven hours straight. She closed the book, and had almost made it to her shower, when there was a knock on her door. She ran downstairs, and her dad was standing on the threshold. She opened the door for him. He saw all the flowers and asked, "What's going on with all the daisies?"

"Don't ask. What are you doing here?" she asked back.

"I've been trying to get a hold of your since yesterday," her father explained, "I really need a big favour from you. I need you to come over tonight, and have dinner with Bernice and me. She has been under some assumption that I'm ashamed of her, and she thinks I don't want you two to have anything to do with each other."

Hermione couldn't believe what he was asking. He _didn't_ want them to have anything to do with each other. "Did you tell her you were ashamed of me, not her?" Hermione said with disdain.

"Sweetheart, I'm not ashamed of you. It's just the whole magic thing is a lot to take, you know," he said. "Please, do this for your dear old dad."

"I have a date tonight," she said truthfully.

"You can bring him along. I'll see you at 7:00. I have to run. Bernice will be so pleased," her father said, hugging her. As he was leaving, he grabbed a handful of the flowers and said, "I'll just give her a few of these." Damn him for giving her flowers to that woman!

She didn't want to cancel her date, and she would never in a million years ask Draco to go to her dad's house with her. There was no choice however, he was her dad. She would have to cancel.

She decided to send a message. She didn't want to tell him in person. She sent a message by her owl, Aries. She kept the message short and sweet. "_Sorry, have to reschedule. Have to go to my dad's tonight."_

She got in the shower, and while she was standing under the steamy water, with soap all over, suddenly her shower curtain was pulled back, and there was Draco Malfoy in the flesh. She wiped her eyes, and tried to cover her body.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" she yelled.

"Oh shove it, Granger. I've had my lips on most of your bits, so it's not that big of a deal for me to see them. Why did you cancel?" Draco asked.

Hermione was still trying to cover herself. She reached for her towel, and turned off the water. She wrapped her soapy body in her towel, and asked, "How did you get in here?"

"The same way I got in here this morning to deliver the flowers and the book," he said dramatically.

"Which was how?" she asked again.

"I'm doing the asking around here!" he demanded. "Why are you canceling our date? If you're still angry, just tell me outright."

"You're an idiot, if I was still angry, you'd know. My dad twisted my arm and made me feel all guilty. I told him I had a date, but all he said was, bring him along. I'm sorry. We can reschedule for tomorrow." She shut the shower curtain, threw the towel on the floor, and turned on the water.

Did she think this was over? He opened the shower curtain again, and she said, "What now?"

"If I was invited to come along, then come along I shall. What time?" he inquired with his hands on his hips.

Were they seriously having this conversation right now? She really thought he had a very thin grip on reality. She took her showerhead down from its holder, and pointed it directly at him, and sprayed him with water. He put his hands in front of him, which only caused the water to splash all over the room.

"Damn Granger, turn that thing off!" He stepped into the shower to grab the showerhead from her. They were both soaking wet. He turned off the water, and turned to face her. She had the shower curtain around her form, and just the look of him, soaking wet, still completely in his clothes, standing in her shower, made her laugh for all it was worth. She couldn't stop laughing. The more she laughed the funnier he looked, because he was becoming angrier.

There's a point where a person cannot become any wetter than they were, but Draco Malfoy did not worry that point. He turned the water back on and pointed the showerhead right at Hermione's face. She dropped the curtain from around her and tried to block the water, in a feeble attempt. He dropped the hose and tried to get out of the shower, but he slipped on the wet floor and ended up on his back. On her floor. In the water. Help him please. He was sure that his pride had drowned!

She turned the water off again, and looked down at him. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm perfectly fine," he said, lying on his back, in the middle of her bathroom, in a puddle of water. He crossed his arms over his chest, in an attempt to look dignified, which only made him look more ridiculous. Hermione had the gull to shut the shower curtain, and continue her shower.

He was mortified. He had never been this humiliated, and that included the time he was turned into a ferret. She finished her shower, and stepped over him. She looked down at him before she left the room, laughed again, and said, "Be a dear, Draco, and clean up this mess before you leave."

When she came out of her bedroom, dried and dressed, she thought Malfoy had left. Her bathroom was put right, at least. She turned to walk down the stairs, and he appeared out of nowhere and pushed her up against the wall.

"Granger," he said with a menacing tone.

"Malfoy," she answered.

"I'm coming with you, tonight," he stated.

"Are you, now?" she teased.

"I dried your bathroom," he said, leaning closer.

"I saw that. Thank you." She smiled.

He leaned even closer and put his cheek next to hers. He said in her ear, "Did you like your flowers?"

"Very much," she whispered back.

He kissed her neck. A small, feathery, light kiss. "Did you like your book?" He licked her pulse point.

"It was okay," she answered, grasping his upper arms for support.

His hand slid down her body. It rested on the rib cage, near her breast. He was still kissing her neck and jaw.

"Malfoy?" she said, though it was hard to speak.

"Yes?" he said through his kisses.

"This isn't exactly what I would call taking things slow," she said, as her knees faltered. He reached around her, to keep her upright.

He looked at her and said, "Did I agree to keep take it slow? I don't recall signing off on those terms." He put his hand on her breast, and started to touch it softly, back and forth.

"You're killing me, you know that, right?" she said, closing her eyes. He kissed her long on the mouth.

"I hope it won't be a painful death," he said, as he released her. She had to literally shake her head, to come back to her senses. He grabbed her hand and said, "Let's go to your dad's house. Where is it?"

She grabbed him back, and instead of answering, she apparated them directly in front of her dad's back door.

He hit her arm so hard with his open hand that she cried out. "I will say this only one more time! DON'T APPARATE WITH ME ANYWHERE EVER AGAIN!"

Hermione wrinkled her nose at Malfoy, and said, "You're such a big baby."

She walked in the door, and said, "Dad, I'm here."

Dinner was a nightmare. Bernice was a nightmare. She flirted with Draco all night. She insulted Hermione every chance she got, and she put Hermione's father down every other second. He could do nothing right, apparently. Hermione had enough! At one point, she walked into the downstairs bathroom, put a silencing charm on the door, and screamed at the top of her lungs. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Draco was there. She fell into his arms. He said, "She just pinched my bum. I really think you should hex her, Granger. Defend my honour."

She looked up at him, thinking he would be smiling at the joke he just made, but he looked serious. "We could modify her memory," he suggested. "She's a right piece of work." Hermione laughed at him.

"Let's just tell my dad goodbye and get out of here," Hermione suggested, and that was what they did.

They had to leave by the front door. Hermione went to take Malfoy's arm, but he ran away from her. "I don't trust you. You want to apparate somewhere with me," he said. She laughed at him. He was such an idiot sometimes. It occurred to her that she thought that about him frequently, but it wasn't without merit.

"Come here. We can walk to a pub around the corner, and get something to drink. I think I need a drink," she said. He walked beside her, but still far enough away, in case she was lying.

Several blocks away, they finally reached the pub, but it wasn't as Hermione remembered. She frowned and said, "Maybe we should go somewhere else."

"No, this place looks nice," he said.

"I don't think we should go in there," she said slowly.

"Come on." He grabbed her hand and went inside.

Hermione knew immediately what type of bar this had become. Draco, however, seemed completely oblivious, which amused her to no end. He took her to a table and sat down. A waiter in tight jeans and no shirt came up and said, "Hi, beautiful. What can I get you to drink?" Hermione tried to hide her snicker.

The man was talking to Draco. Draco, however, had yet to notice. Hermione finally said, "We'll have two beers, please."

Draco leaned toward her and said, "How presumptuous, to call you 'beautiful' right in front of me." She smiled and nodded in agreement.

The waiter brought their drinks, which Hermione paid for, and Draco finally said, "There certainly are a lot of chaps in here. You might be the only female."

"You don't say," Hermione answered indolently. She took a long swig of beer. If he didn't notice soon, she was going to bust a gut laughing.

A very good-looking man came up and sat down next to them. He smiled at Draco and said, "What's your name, sweetheart?" Draco's eyes became wide and he looked over at Hermione, who was hiding a grin behind her hand. The man put his hand on Draco's knee.

Hermione said to Draco, "Don't be so shy." Then she turned to the good-looking man and said, "My brother has just recently come out, and he's never been to one of these bars before. That's why I'm here for support. His name is Derek." Draco kicked her under the table. It was worth the pain she felt in her shin. The man sidled closer, and put his arm around Draco.

"Listen to sis, and don't be shy, Derek," the man said. "Everyone has a hard time, when they first come out."

"What the hell!" Draco said loudly. "What is 'coming out', Granger?" he yelled at her. She was laughing so hard now, that her head was on the table.

The man stood up and grabbed Draco by the hand. "Let's dance, darling," the man said. Hermione looked up and laughed so hard that the top of her head hurt.

Draco was in the man's arms and looked about ready to curse the whole room. He pushed the man away, and started toward the table. Hermione was wiping the tears from her eyes. Before he could reach the table, another man came up to Draco and whispered something in his ear. Draco looked at the man in shock, and pulled out his wand. This wasn't funny anymore. Hermione rushed up to him, grab his wand, put it in her purse, and ran out of the place, still holding his hand.

When they reached the sidewalk, Hermione fell against the building, laughing hysterically. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT BLOKE SAID TO ME?" he yelled at her. "DO YOU THINK THIS IS BLOODY FUNNY?"

She shook her head yes. She started running down the street, and he ran after her. He caught her and turned her around. He was going to give her a thorough thrashing, but when he turned her around, the moonlight was dancing off her skin, and it appeared almost translucent. Her eyes were dancing in delight, from her laughter. She looked so pretty. He wanted to yell at her, but hell, if he could give her just a little bit of joy, even if he had to suffer terrible humiliation, then he would do it for her. He just realized this was one of the things people did for the people that they loved. If he had to suffer in a gay bar to bring her joy, he would.

He put her hand in his and they walked on down the street.

"What did that man say to you?" she asked shyly.

"Something about my pretty lips, but I can't say anymore," he said, as his face turned red.

"You do have pretty lips," she agreed, "In fact; your whole face is pretty. You were the most popular man in that whole bar. They all wanted to take you home." She was trying to give him words of encouragement, but it made him quiver a bit.

"You are truly evil sometimes," he said to her. Then he smiled and said, "I like that in a person."

She put her head on his shoulder and announced, "I'm so tired. I need to go home to bed. Take me home." He apparated her to her house.

"I don't know what you keep complaining about; side-along apparition isn't that bad," she said with a yawn.

"Go to bed, Granger. I'll see you tomorrow. We'll talk about the Gala and reschedule our date." He kissed her lips sweetly. She started up her stairs.

She turned around and said, "Are you going home?"

He laughed and said, "I think I'll check out that bar again. That first fellow was awfully good looking." He waved at her and shut the door. He walked down her sidewalk, and turned to look at her house. He shook his head, and said, "She is pure evil, that one. I'll have to keep on my toes with her." He walked away, whistling.

She looked down at him, from her bedroom window. He was whistling. Stupid wanker. She smiled and fell on her bed. The book was still there. She opened it and decided she wasn't that tired. She could read another chapter or two.


	10. 10 The Police Station

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 10: The Police Station****:**

The day was Saturday. Hermione had rescheduled her date with Draco for tonight. He had a lot of last minute details, which needed his attention. It wasn't easy, changing everything around to accommodate the change of days. He had planned on taking Hermione to Paris. He was casually going to ask her if she liked French food. If she said "yes", then he would mention that he knew of the perfect place to go where they could get the best French food. If she said "no", then he would say that he knew the perfect place to change her mind.

It would be very romantic. He booked a room at a five star Muggle hotel. He thought they would spend the night, but of course. He thought it was hilarious that he was nervous about "their first date", when they had technically been seeing each other for over two weeks. If she cancelled again he would hunt her down and kill her like a dog. Not really. But he would be royally put out.

It was still early afternoon. He had four hours until their date. What to do, what to do? He walked to his closet, in search of the perfect outfit for tonight. He had probably over a thousand suits. None of them would do. He decided to go buy a new suit, just for tonight. He went to a Muggle mall. He actually liked shopping there, but he would never admit as much.

He looked around the men's department, when he saw Mr. Granger's wife, Bernice. She had her arm interlaced with an older gentleman's arm, which even from a distance; Draco could tell wasn't Hermione's dad. He ducked behind a display, and took another peek. Hermione's step-mum was now kissing this man's cheek. There was no way to explain this, except for that fact that she was cheating on Hermione's dad. She probably did have ulterior motives for marrying the man. What should he do?

If Draco told Hermione it would ruin their evening. If he didn't tell her, no harm would be done. Draco didn't want to ruin his evening. He watched as this man and this Bernice woman walked out of the department store, holding hands.

Draco left as well. He felt like one of those private investigators. He squinted his eyes to focus on what they were doing now. She was kissing him. Yuck. Draco casually walked toward them. When he was close enough to speak, he did. "Mrs. Granger, hello, do you remember me? I'm your step-daughter's friend, Draco." Bernice looked like someone took all the wind out of her sails.

She looked at the man she was with, and then at Draco, and said, "I think you have the wrong person." She tried to pull the man she was with away.

Draco followed and said, "Your name is Bernice, isn't it?" She turned back and gave Draco a steely glare.

The man with her said, "How do you know my wife?" Wow! His wife.

"I know your wife because she is also the wife of a very good friend of mine's dad." So there.

Bernice was very angry. She rushed Draco, and started hitting him like a banshee. Draco tried to defend himself. If there weren't so many Muggles around, and if he had the forethought to have brought his wand with him, this woman would be on the receiving end of many different hexes. As it was, all Draco could do was hold his hands in front of his face. He must protect his face at all cost.

More and more people gathered around as he was backing farther away from the crazy woman. He tripped backwards over an abandoned shopping bag, and fell directly on his back. Soon, the Muggle police had been called. The Police took Draco and Bernice in for questioning, to find out what exactly happened.

It was around 6:25 pm, and Hermione was getting ready for her date with Malfoy. Nothing would ruin it this time. Hermione's phone rang. The only person who ever called her on the phone was her Dad. Should she answer or not? He probably wanted to invite her on holiday with him and Bernice. She wouldn't answer the phone.

The phone rang again, ten minutes later. It continued to ring off and on for the next half an hour. She didn't care. She finally took the bloody thing off the hook. At exactly 7pm, she stood by her front door, and waited for Malfoy. She knew he hated to be late for anything. He would be there any second.

At 7:15 pm, Hermione was a little concerned.

At 7:30 pm, Hermione was a little worried.

At 7:45 pm, Hermione was a bit peeved.

At 8:00 pm, Hermione was completely unhinged.

And at 8:15 pm, Hermione was regretting the day she ever met Draco Malfoy. She put her phone back on the hook, and started up the stairs, when the phone rang immediately. She went to answer. No reason not to now.

"Hello," Hermione answered.

"Where the fuck have you been?" said the voice on the other end. She wasn't completely sure who it was. It sounded slightly like Draco.

"Draco?" she asked.

"No, it's that Pinocchio chap you keep talking about!" he yelled.

"Why are you calling me on the phone?"

"How else can I call you?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm at a police station!"

"Why?"

"Who cares? Come fetch me."

"Are you at the Ministry?"

"Granger, try for one moment to put your intelligence to work. I said I was at a Police Station. Would I be using a telephone at the Ministry of Magic? No. So, one might deduced from those two things that **I'm at a bloody Muggle Police Station!**"

All of the sudden, another man came on the phone. "Miss Granger, could you please come get him right away. We can't stand one more minute of him," said the officer on the phone. He told Hermione which police station they had Draco, and she got in her car, and drove there quickly. She thought it would be better to drive, then to apparate.

When she entered the station, she saw a very foul looking Draco, sporting a black eye and a cut lip, handcuffed to a chair in the corner.

She went to the front desk and said, "I'm here for Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank God!" exclaimed the officer at the desk.

"Is he under arrest?" she asked, "Do I need to get bail money?"

"Oh no, he's not been charged with anything. We had to restrain him, because he was acting like a, well, how shall I say this…" the man's voice trailed off and Hermione finished his sentence for him.

"Like a first class arse-hole?" she asked.

"I was going to say 'prick', but I didn't want to use that type of language in front of you," the man laughed. "We also thought maybe he was slightly mentally unbalanced." Hermione smiled at that statement.

All of the sudden Draco said, "If I had my wand, this whole place would be cursed off the face of the planet!" Hermione rushed up to him and put her hand over his mouth.

"Draco, don't make threats in a police station. They take that very seriously," Hermione whispered.

The same officer came up to them, unlocked Draco's handcuffs, and said, "Oh, he keeps making threats about magic wands, and hexes, and all sort of crazy things. We were going to call in a psychiatric consult, but frankly, we didn't want him around that long."

Draco stood up, and brushed off his slacks. "Get me out of this hellhole, Hermione. Right now." He turned to the officers and others sitting in the station and said, "I hope you all rot in hell."

Hermione turned to them all, and said, "I'm sorry. He must be having one of his delusional episodes. He's harmless, really." She followed Draco out the door.

He was walking back and forth in front of the station. When she came out, he said, "Why didn't you answer your phone. I tried calling all night!"

"I thought it was my dad. No one else ever calls me. My magical friends send messages by floo or owl. Tell me, what the hell is going on, and how did you know my number anyway?"

"Can we leave first?" he asked with a sneer.

Hermione headed toward her car, and he got in the other side.

She drove about a block away, but curiosity got the best of her, and she had to pull to the side. "Tell me what you were doing at the police station," she quizzed.

"It's entirely your fault," he said without explanation.

"How is it my fault?"

"Your stupid wanker father and his stupid bint of a wife," he said, still not making any sense to Hermione.

She put her head on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. She turned to face him again, and said, "Please, stay calm, and start at the beginning.

He told her how he went to the mall this afternoon to buy a new suit, how he saw Bernice and some man, how he confronted her, (And by the way, did Hermione know she was already married, because she was,) and how Bernice assaulted him, and how they both were taken to the police station. He said that witnesses told the police he was attacked unprovoked, but they wouldn't just let him leave on his own, because apparently he was acting unstable or some such shite.

Hermione sat in the car, listening to the whole story, with her hands covering her mouth. She didn't know what to say.

"Oh, and Bernice called your dad, and he bailed her out, and he gave me your phone number to call you," Draco finished with.

"Why would my dad bail her out? Did he know about the other man?" Hermione inquired.

Draco shrugged his shoulders, and said, "No idea, and don't give a damn."

Hermione looked out at the road. She then looked at the dark sky above. "Draco, you were right. I really should have hexed her in the beginning. My poor dad has been so lonely, and I'm always too busy for him. I feel like this is my fault. I should have done something."

"Don't play the martyr, Granger, it's not becoming. Your father is a grown man, and he has to make his own decisions, and his own mistakes," Draco chastised.

"Why did you confront her in the first place?" Hermione asked.

"I wasn't going to, and it was against my better judgment. I guess some of your morals are rubbing off on me," he said, as he actually started rubbing his hands up and down his arms, as if to rub off her morals.

"Well, this is interesting. What do I do now?" she said, more to herself than to him. She got out of the car, and started walking.

Draco shouted, "Granger, get back here right now!" He got out of the car to follow.

He came up beside her, and grabbed her hand. "You were right; we really should have hexed her when we had the chance," he said to her.

She turned to face him and smiled. With the light of the streetlamp, she could see the bruise near his eye shining like a beacon in the night. She put her hand on his face, and with her index finger, she outlined the bruise. He flinched slightly. She took a deep breath and said, "I hate that woman more than ever now. She beat up my boyfriend."

He pulled Hermione in his arms, and said in her ear, "Am I your boyfriend?"

"Yes," she said back.

"I probably could have taken her if I had my wand," he said, half-joking.

"Yes, I'm sure you could have," she said back.

He then said, "Feel my muscles. I have large muscles." She laughed and felt his arms. She made a funny face.

"I've got bigger muscles than that," she bragged. He took her arm, pulled her coat sleeve up slightly, and pinched her lower arm. She yelped.

"I'm not above beating up a woman, I'll tell you that," he said.

"Then you should have started with Bernice, not me," she said. "I'm pretty sure I could take you in a fair fight. You're too much of a pretty boy; one might even say, a sissy." She ran away from him, heading back toward the car. He chased her and caught her before she could get the door opened. He pushed her roughly up against the car and put his legs between hers, and pressed his body hard against hers.

"Apologize for questioning my manhood, Granger," he said in a low voice.

Instead, she leaned forward and slowly kissed his lips. She ran her tongue along the corners, and then opened his mouth with hers and kissed him for all it was worth.

He pulled away from her, and then he kissed her ear, and said, "Let's go have our first date. It's not too late. Paris is the city that never sleeps."

She pulled out of his arms, and with a look of surprise, and asked, "You were going to take me to Paris?"

"I still am, if you're game," he answered.

"Nah, it's so late. Let's just go back to my house. We'll do something nice tomorrow. It's Sunday after all. Maybe we could go to a museum."

"Wow, remind me not to let you plan any of our dates. A museum. I can hardly contain my excitement," Draco drawled.

She got in the car, just as he was opening the door on the other side, and she said, "I thought you liked my cerebral side."

He leaned over and said, "You changed your mind about liking my sense of humour, so I've changed my mind about liking your mind."

"What do you like best about me now, on the whole?" she inquired.

"I'm really starting to take a shine to this car. Perhaps you'll have to teach me to drive." He stroked the upholstery softly, back and forth.

"Why don't you two get a room?" she joked as she started the engine.

They arrived at her house, entered her back door, and he said, "What happened to all the flowers?"

She laughed and said, "I could hardly keep them forever. I kept a few; they're in vases throughout the house. Are you hungry? I could make you some eggs."

He nodded and sat down. She went to her fridge and took out three eggs. She proceeded to crack the eggs in a bowl. Suddenly, she felt Malfoy standing behind her. He reached around her, and put one hand on her hip and the other on the front of her neck. He started kissing the side of her neck.

"What did you have on tonight? For our date? I bet you looked sexy," he whispered. She tried to turn around to face him, but he kept her steady in front of him. She gripped the counter in front of her. He continued to kiss her neck. He moved her hair to the side, and kissed the back of her neck. He moved his hands down her arms. He moved them back up. "Hermione," he said so softly. She might have imagined the whole thing. Maybe he didn't say anything.

She shut her eyes. "Do you still want your eggs?" she asked. He snickered and said something about wanting her instead, but she wasn't sure exactly what he said.

He now had one hand creeping up the front of her t-shirt. He rubbed his fingertips playfully across her stomach. His other hand was across her chest, holding her shoulder.

He was biting her shoulder now. He moved the hand that was on her stomach lower, so that it was at the top of her jeans. She arched her back slightly, a reflex, so that her bum was closer to his legs. His hand playfully inched below her waistband. The other hand went under her shirt, and pushed aside her bra.

She was moaning softly. He was as well. He positioned his legs between hers, so she couldn't put her legs together. She was standing on her toes, to grant him better access. She was leaning forward so far, that he had to pull her back. He was still kissing her neck. He had been sucking on it gently, but the more she moaned, the harder he bit down.

She was now crying, "Oh, oh." Her legs could no longer hold her weight. He had her practically leaning completely against the counter, with his full weight on her back. He had to physically hold her up. He was breathing as hard as she was. Finally, he permitted her to turn around to face him. She was flushed. He was sweating. She kissed him long and hard. She forced her tongue inside his mouth. She put her hands roughly in his hair. She pressed her core as close to his center as she could. She needed more. Much more. He removed his shirt, and she removed hers. He backed up against her table, and pulled her up to him, between his legs. She unzipped his trousers and put her hands inside. He started to pull her pants down.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

NOOOOO! They both thought at the same time. For a moment, Draco stopped, and looked in the direction from which the sound came. Hermione ignored the knocking. She was still in the heat of passion. As the knocking continued, Draco had to physically push her away. "The door," he said breathlessly.

Hermione shook her head no.

Draco sat up from the table, and zipped his trousers. He threw her shirt to her. He picked his up from the floor and started to put it on as he walked toward her front door. He answered the door, and saw Harry Potter of all people.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

Unable to speak, Draco pointed to the kitchen. He could only hope that Hermione had righted herself enough to receive visitors. Draco stayed in the living room. He didn't want Scarhead to see his current state. Suddenly he heard Hermione yell, "No!" He rushed to the kitchen. Hermione had collapsed in Potter's arm. Draco raised his eyebrows, as a question to Potter.

Harry said, "Hermione's dad just died."


	11. 11 The Time

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 11: The Time:**

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Draco sat in Hermione's living room after coming home from her dad's funeral. Hermione had gone upstairs to take a nap. Her four companions sat in complete silence, not knowing what to do to help her.

It turned out that Bernice was a witch. She wasn't a Muggle. Harry had thought there was something familiar about her the first time he had met her. He had gone to Mr. Granger's wedding, to support Hermione. When he got home, he told Ginny that he knew he had definitely seen "Bernice" somewhere before. Unfortunately, he never fully made the connection until the night Hermione's dad died.

It seemed that Bernice made a practice out of marrying lonely, widowed Muggles. She always made sure they had witches or wizards for children. She would marry them, and then blackmail them, for her silence, when she "discovered" they had magical children. She would never reveal to them that she herself was a witch. Since Hermione's father had never officially told Bernice that his daughter was magical, things weren't going along as fast as Bernice wanted. That's why she tried to get to know Hermione better. She kept hoping that Hermione would somehow reveal her ability. Apparently the day she met Malfoy at the mall, she had another one of her husbands (she always had more than one at a time), with her and she couldn't risk Malfoy blowing her cover, nor could she risk using magic against him.

When Bernice called Hermione's dad to come bail her out of jail, he had already become suspicious of her. He tried to call Hermione, but her phone was off the hook. He called Harry. He always liked Harry Potter. Harry went with Mr. Granger to bail Bernice out of jail. That was when Harry finally remembered where he knew her. The Ministry police had been searching for her for quite sometime. Harry left Mr. Granger to take Bernice home by himself. He went to get some fellow Auror's so they could arrest her.

When Hermione's father and Bernice got home that night, they argued, and he told her he wanted her to leave. They argued bitterly, and Hermione's father had a major heart attack and died. Harry and the other Auror's arrived just a few moments later. It was too late to save Mr. Granger. It wasn't too late to arrest Bernice.

Harry blamed himself. He shouldn't have left him alone with her. True, she didn't really kill him, but she might as well have. Draco blamed himself. He should have killed the bitch that night she pinched his bum. Of course, Hermione blamed herself. If her dad hadn't been sad and lonely, he would never have sought out that woman's attention. And worst of all, that woman would never have sought out Hermione's dad if Hermione hadn't been a witch.

Hermione came walking through her living room. She smiled a plastic smile at everyone, but her red-rimmed eyes revealed her true feelings. She knew they had good intentions, but she just wished they would all go away and leave her alone. She was fine, really. She just really hated the month of March. Good thing it would be over in four more days.

"Does anyone want something to eat?" she asked as she passed through.

"I'll fix it!" Ginny said as she popped up from the couch, "Come help me Harry, Ron."

That left Draco and Hermione alone. Draco could tell she wasn't in the mood for fake proclamations. She wouldn't want any sympathy right now. She probably just wanted everyone to leave her alone. She went to the front window and looked outside. "I can't believe its snowing. When will spring ever be here?" she said, as if in a dream. Draco stood behind her, but didn't touch her. "When I was eight or nine, my father took me out in the back garden during a massive snow storm. We acted as if we were lost in the snow, and we pretended there was a big avalanche. We rolled around on the cold ground, and acted like we couldn't find our way home, even though the warmth of our house was only a few steps away." She was now crying without restraint. "My mum made us come in, and told my father he was stark raving mad to take a small child out in a blizzard. My mum made me get a hot bath, and go straight to bed, but my dad snuck up the stairs and gave me some hot chocolate with marshmallows."

She put her hands up to her face and continued to weep freely. Draco remained behind her. He didn't know what to do to ease her pain. Her other friends came into the room, and everyone stood and watched her cry. She turned to face them and wiped her eyes and said, "Is the food ready yet, Gin?"

Ginny smiled and said, "Soon."

Ginny walked back into the kitchen, followed by Ron. Harry and Draco stayed in the living room with her. She said, "Where are the tissues, I need to blow my nose."

Harry went to find the tissues, and she reached over to Draco, grabbed his arm, and said, "Give me your sleeve." He laughed, and he thought 'she's crazy', but he held out his shirtsleeve, and she really did wipe her nose on his sleeve. He looked at the snot on his sleeve and made a disgusted face, and she laughed for the first time in days. Harry came in with the tissues, and tried to hand them to Hermione. She pointed to Draco and said, "He needs them more than I do. He has snot on his sleeve." Harry frowned and threw the box to Draco.

"It's not my snot, Potter," Draco said with arrogance. He took out his wand and cleaned his sleeve. Draco had been making a mental list of the things he did for Hermione out of love for her; since that day on the beach when she explained how a person knew they were in love. Letting someone wipe their snotty nose on your sleeve was going to be placed at the top of his list.

Hermione walked into the kitchen, and grabbed a sandwich. "I'm going for a walk." She put on her coat, and went out the front door, still holding her sandwich.

"Someone should go with her," Ron said.

"I'll go," Harry suggested.

"I think Draco should," Ginny recommended. Draco looked at the girl Weasel and nodded. He put his coat on, grabbed a sandwich for himself, and followed her out the door.

He didn't have far to go. She was sitting on the front stoop.

He sat next to her. He bumped her shoulder with his. She didn't look up. She said, "I want you to know that I'll be back to work tomorrow. I know I've been slacking lately, but everything is coming along fine with the plans for the Spring Fling." She took a bite of her sandwich.

"Yes, well, I have been very worried about the bloody Spring Fling, after all. It's been consuming my every waking hour. Nothing else is going on in my life. It's not like my girlfriend's dad just died or anything," he said, trying to sound dismissive, but ending up sounding almost cruel.

She dropped her face to her knees, and started to cry again. He put his arm around her. She fell into his lap. He rocked her back and forth. The snow littered their hair and coats. Finally, after a moment of silence, she sat up and looked up at him. She touched his hair and said, "You hair is almost the same color as the snow."

He said, "Do you need my sleeve again?" She laughed and shook her head no.

"I want everyone to go home. Will you tell them? I'll be fine. I just really want to be alone," she pleaded.

"Does that include me?" he asked. He wouldn't be offended if she said it did. He just wanted to know.

"No, you can stay, if you want. I know you'll give me my space."

He stood up and grabbed her hand to pull her up. He embraced her and said, "You still owe me a date, don't you?"

She looked up at him and said, "Do you know what my dad said about you?"

He didn't know what one thing had to do with the other, but he asked, "What?"

Hermione said, "When he found that you were THE Draco Malfoy, the well known Mudblood hater, pureblood extraordinaire, he said, 'are you sure you weren't exaggerating about him all those years pumpkin, because I find him a personable and charming young man.' I laughed when he said that and told him that you were without a doubt the same Draco Malfoy, but that you must have had _a change of heart_, because he was right, you were now a personable and charming young man."

Draco loved Hermione. She was the best thing in his life, and if he did have a change of heart, it was because she came into his life and helped him find his. He didn't respond to her story, however. He just held her tighter than ever before.

"Let's go inside, Granger. You know I hate the cold," he said, in mock annoyance.

They walked inside, he took both of their uneaten sandwiches, and he said, "I'll throw these out and get rid of your fan club now, if you still want."

She said, "You know what, let them stay. If the shoe was on the other foot, I would want to be there for all of you." She went to the couch and to lie down. She kicked off her shoes. He covered her with a throw that was over one of the chairs. He left her in the living room and went to join the others in the kitchen.

Draco told her friends, "She'll be just fine," and he knew she would.

She woke up much later, and the house was dark. She was disoriented. She almost felt like she was in a dream. But, all too soon, she realized everything was real. It wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare, but not a dream. She sat up and called out, "Draco?"

In the dark, she didn't realize he was sitting in the chair next to the couch. He must have dozed off. He seemed as disoriented as she was just moments before. He came stumbling over to the couch, and cracked his shin on the coffee table, which was hidden by the darkness of the house.

"Bloody hell, damn, mother fucker!" Draco spouted, under his breath. Hermione made no obvious attempts to hide her chuckle. Draco sat beside her on the couch, holding his shin. This would have to be added to his list.

"Quite an interesting and intellectual vocabulary you have there, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said, stretching her arms. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Time for all good men to go to war," he quoted.

What? Hermione thought. Then she said, "Time and tide waits for no man; Mark Twain."

Draco said, "Time is money; Benjamin Franklin".

Hermione said, "Can anyone remember when the time was not hard, and money not scarce; Emerson."

Draco said, "It takes less time to do things right, then to explain why you did them wrong; Longfellow."

Hermione said, "Time spent laughing is time spent with the gods; Japanese Proverb."

Draco said, "Time stays long enough for anyone who will use it; DaVinci."

Hermione said, "Time is not a reality, but a concept; TS Eliot."

Draco said, "I wasted time, and now time doth wasted me; Shakespeare."

Hermione said, "Lost time is never found again; Benjamin Franklin."

Draco said, "Do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of."

Hermione said, "He who knows most, grieves for wasted time."

Draco said, "Time waits for no man."

Hermione said, "The times they are a changing."

Draco said, "To see a world in a grain of sand, and a Heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in a hour; William Blake."

"That one didn't have the word time," Hermione complained

"It was about 'time', though," Draco pointed out.

"I don't think that counts," Hermione said.

"I didn't know there were rules to this little play of words," Draco stated, "Because, if there are rules, I think the rules would say if you can't think of another time quote, then I win."

So, Hermione said:

"There is a time for everything under heaven.

A time to give birth and a time to die.

A time to plant, and a time to sow.

A time to kill and a time to heal.

A time to tear down and a time to build up.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh.

A time to mourn and a time to dance.

A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones together.

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.

A time to search, and a time to give up what is lost.

A time to keep and a time to throw away.

A time to tear apart, and a time to sew together,

A time to be silent and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate.

A time for war, and a time for peace.

King Solomon, the Holy Bible." Hermione finished her speech, turned to Draco, and said, "now, do you really know what time it is, or not?"


	12. 12 The Book Sale

**all characters belongs to JKR**

**Chapter 12: The Book Sale****:**

Draco walked into his office the next morning with his head down. He just felt off today. Hermione was in denial. He told her to take some more time off work, but she told him that she needed to get back to normal. Things would never be normal for her again, didn't she see that?

He was terribly behind in his work. He had three important meetings he had to cancel because he needed to be with Hermione after her dad died. Now he would desperately have to try to catch up on his work. It was okay, though. He would add that to his list of things he did for her out of love. It would be number 24.

He shifted some papers on his desk. He needed to find the itinerary for the spring gala. One of the meetings he was forced to reschedule was with Hermione and her staff. The gala was just two weeks away. He was to meet with them later that day. He yelled out to his assistant. Did he know where the gala itinerary had gone? His assistant came in his office with a very large manila envelope, perhaps the largest one Draco had ever seen, and said that it had just been brought over by courier.

Draco opened the envelope and spilled out the contents. There was the guest list, the proposed entertainment, and the list of items to be raffled. Everything. He would look them over more thoroughly later. He started to stuff everything back in the envelope, when he saw there was still one thing remaining in the envelope. He reached inside, and pulled out the copy of "**Hogwarts, a History"**. It was wrapped with string, and there was a small tag attached to the string. The tag said, "_I'm running out of ideals, and in my current state, this was the only thing I could think to do. I hope you won't hold my lack of originality against me. Love, Hermione_". He took the book and laid it gently on his desk. He forgot about their "book war". He had other things on his mind. Maybe this meant she was getting back to her old self. He couldn't fault her for not thinking up a better way to get the book back to him. He would think up a great way to give it to her next, something that would bring a real smile to her face.

As Hermione made her way through the bustling crowds in the hallways of Gringotts bank the next morning, she was irritable and angry. She wished everyone would stop offering her their sympathy. Why were they sorry? They didn't even know her dad. Some of them didn't even know her. She would be just fine. She was a strong woman. She finally found the safety and solitude of her office, but her seclusion was short lived. Mr. Moss stuck his head in her office and said, "Hermione, may I see you for a moment." She nodded her head in the affirmative, and he sat down in a chair by her desk. "How are you?" he asked. She shrugged. "You're probably getting tired of hearing this, but I'm truly sorry. You know, you can take more time off if you need.

"No, I need to come back to work. I need to take my mind off things. The Gala is only two weeks away, and we have so much more to do," she said, shuffling through papers on her desk. She looked up, having just remembered that he wanted to talk, and added, "So, you needed to talk to me about something?"

"I really hate to bother you with this, but it does regard the spring gala, and as you stated, we're down to the wire," Moss began.

He had Hermione's full attention.

"As you know, Draco Malfoy's company is putting up half of the cost of the gala, and Gringotts is putting up the other half. But, in reality, Gringotts half comprises of donations from some of our biggest shareholders. That's where the problem comes in." Moss stood up, and sat on Hermione's desk, looked down at her, and he continued, "The Parkinson family had given Gringotts a blanket donation of 25,000 galleons, to be used in anyway, and for any charity, that we saw fit. We were using it to help offset the cost of the gala. Well, they withdrew their donation last week. We don't even know why. Now we need to cut out 25,000 galleons from the budget, because at this late date, we can't possible come up with that much money."

Hermione knew why they withdrew the donation. She stood and said, "We can't cut that much money from the budget at this late of date. Everything is almost all paid for, and we couldn't recoup our losses anyway." She went to walk around the side of the desk. "Listen, I'm sure Draco will just put up the rest of the money. That's like pocket change to him, and it's for a good cause."

"That's the thing," Mr. Moss explained, "The Board strictly forbad us to ask Malfoy for more money. They think it would be in bad taste, and they don't want to offend their largest shareholder."

"Can't the Board just come up with the money, and then reimburse themselves after we make our profit?" she asked.

"Things don't work like that, Hermione," Mr. Moss explained. "All the monies taken in by the Spring Fling are earmarked for St. Mungos. We can't go allocating funds around like that. That would be illegal."

"Well, this is great, just great," Hermione said in a small voice, as she sat down. "You know Draco and I are seeing each other don't you? I could ask him as a personal favour. He wouldn't even care why I needed the money. He would just give it to me, and I'll give it to the bank." She was grasping at straws.

"We can't let you do that either. The bank can't accept money from their employees for things like that, and I think they would still frown over the fact that the money came from Malfoy," Mr. Moss told her. He put his hand on her shoulder and said, "I suggest you call your staff in here and get to work on some ideas, before your meeting with Malfoy this afternoon." He left her office, and smiled a small sad smile at her as he left.

Maybe Harry could donate the money. Of course, the board would probably not accept that either. She had a thought. If she still had 'the book', perhaps she could sell it, and she could give the money from the sale as an anonymous donation. It was the only thing of real value she had. The problem was, she didn't really 'have' it at the moment. She sent it over to Draco this morning. She wondered how long it would take for him to think of a way to get it back to her.

Draco moved through his day like a zombie. He was anxiously waiting until his afternoon meeting with Hermione. Hermione was anxiously waiting for that meeting as well. She decided not to tell her staff about the sudden glitch in their plans. Three was no need. She would come up with the money somehow. When 3:00 pm finally arrived, Hermione and three of her staff members apparated to Malfoy's building. They took the lifts up to the seventh floor. The receptionist showed them to a large conference room. It was the same conference room Hermione barged into that Monday after the auction. She smiled at that memory. She acted like a right terror that day. The memory caused a slight pink to appear on her cheeks, from embarrassment.

Draco and his assistant came in the room. Hermione stood up. She knew Draco wasn't one for public displays of affection, so she was somewhat shocked when he came up and hugged her tight. He whispered in her ear, "How are you, sweetheart?"

She pulled back from him, and thought to herself, 'he has never called me anything but Granger, Hermione, or Mudblood my entire life.' So, instead of saying 'fine', she said, in a whisper so only he could hear, "Sweetheart?"

He actually laughed, and pinched her upper arm so hard she wanted to hit him, but they were in a meeting after all; must remain professional.

They went over everything, and Malfoy signed off on all the final plans. As they were getting ready to leave, he pulled Hermione to the side. She told her staff to go back without her, and she would either see them later, or if she didn't return today, she would see them tomorrow.

"Why did you tell them you might not return to work today? Now they'll think that I held you back so we could have crazy, mad, office sex; scandalous, Granger, simply scandalous," Draco said. He leaned down to kiss her.

Hermione pushed him away, but kept her hands on his arms, and said, "Pray tell kind sir, why have you held me back?"

"I want to have crazy, mad, office sex with you. Right here on the conference table," Draco pretended. Then he looked around and said, "Now, where did I put my whip and chains?"

She hit him hard and he pinched her again. "Please stop pinching me. I bruise very easily, you brute," Hermione retorted. She sat down and then said, "Don't call me sweetheart again, either. It threw me. I thought you were channeling someone else for a moment."

"You mean to say that I can't call my woman any kind of terms of endearment?" he asked, actually coming up to her and sitting on her lap.

She put her arms around him and said, "What you can't do is ever, and I mean this, ever call me 'your woman' again," and then she pushed him off her lap and onto the ground.

He reached up and pulled her off the chair and she landed on his legs. He winced in pain. She tried to get up, and her knee went right in his groin. He cried out again. She was still struggling to stand, but now she was laughing so hard, she couldn't stand up if her life depended on it. She was sitting on the floor beside him, her legs tangled with his, and he pushed her so that she fell over. Just then, his assistant walked in. At first, he didn't even see them, since they were on the floor, behind the table. He soon heard her laughing and walked around and reminded Draco he had another meeting in ten minutes, and he promptly left.

"There goes your reputation, Granger," Draco said as he stood. She put her hand up, to garner his assistance to help her stand as well, but all he did was hit her hand away. "He probably thought we were in the throes of passion," Draco concluded.

Hermione got up on her own and said, "If he did, then I think it's your reputation that is ruined, because when he entered I was laughing hysterically. Now, did you really have a reason to talk to me, or did you just want to roll around on the ground with me for a while?" She straightened her skirt while she asked that question.

He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Ah, yes, the question. One might even call it, the million-galleon question. Here is how I see it, Granger," he kissed her neck, "You still owe me a date," he kissed the other side of her neck, "One in which I originally paid a million galleons to obtain," he put one hand on her blouse covered bosom, and he kissed her softly on the mouth, "So here is my proposal," he kissed her temple, by her hair, "come to the Spring Fling with me," he kissed her earlobe, "and we can finally say we had our bloody date," he kissed her chest, near the opening of her shirt, "and my million galleons won't have been wasted in vain," he came back to her lips, kissed her hungrily, and with passion. When they finally parted, he said, "Well?"

Hermione put one hand on his cheek, and traced it down to his jaw, and his neck. She rested the hand on his heart. She then rested her forehead next to his and without looking at him she said, "I see one flaw to your plan, sir."

"Do tell, do tell," he bent to kiss her lips once more.

"I don't have a million galleon book in my possession at the moment. It seems to me that you have yet to pay for this date you are proposing." She leaned in to him and put her head on his chest.

He held her tightly and tenderly pushed her hair back, and said in her ear, "That's an easy remedy to fix, Granger. So, will you be my date for the gala?"

She looked up into his grey eyes. She really loved him. She said, "I think you deserve your date, Malfoy. I would be honoured. But, get me that book." Hermione almost felt guilty about getting the book back from him this way. She would have gone to the gala with him anyway, so she shouldn't feel guilty, right?

"Run along, little girl," he said as he released her. He then patted her on the bum. "Unlike some people, I have to work for a living. Oh wait, no I don't," and he laughed at his own stupid joke, and she rolled her eyes.

"Will I see you tonight?" she asked.

"What's tonight?" he asked.

"You have the mental capacity of a slug," she said, in disdain, "I told you about this yesterday. Ginny and Harry are throwing Ron a belated birthday party tonight. Its two weeks late, but better late than never. So, I'll ask you again, sweetheart," she said sarcastically, "will I see you tonight at the party?"

"Probably," he said back.

She frowned and walked up to him, and this time she pinched his arm hard. "You're such a wanker. You had better be there, or I'll come and find you and apparate you there, and I know how much you hate that." She started to leave, and he was mumbling something about her being bossy and mean, and possibly a brute, but she ignored him and walked out of the conference room, feeling better than she had all day. She was in love, and she was going to get that book back, and find the money to pay for the stupid 'Spring Fling' if it killed her. Now, she just needed to find someone who would want to pay 25,000 galleons for a book.

Hermione showed up for Ron's party at Harry and Ginny's about a half an hour early. She wanted to show up before most of the guests did. She figured if she showed up late, she would have to hear all the Weasley's offering their apologies about her dad again, and she wasn't sure she could handle that. If she was early, she could hide out somewhere until the party started and ignore the throng of red-haired good intentions.

She hadn't really asked Draco if he was going to meet her, or pick her up, or anything. She just hoped he would come. She knew he would feel uncomfortable here, but she still hoped that he would come for her.

The guests all started arriving. Hermione went upstairs and visited with the baby. She was rocking him in his rocker when someone opened the door. It was Draco. "Hey Granger, you stole my hiding place," he feigned.

"You were going to hide in the baby's room?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, he's probably my only friend here, present company excluded, of course." Draco came up and actually stroked the little baby's dark hair. "Seriously, why are you hiding?"

"I'm not," she lied. Then, to change the subject, she said, "I thought you weren't going to show."

"And miss a Weasley birthday party; I would sooner cut off all my hair," he joked. He watched her rocking the baby in the chair, with her index finger tight in his little grasp. "It seems the little thing is quite attached to you. I understand the attraction. I'm quite attached to you myself," Draco said, putting his hand on her head, and stroking her hair the way he had just stroked the baby's hair.

She stood up and put the baby back in his crib.

"Do you want children, Hermione?" he asked out of the blue.

She didn't turn to look at him. She kept her full attention on the baby. He stood next to her. Her hands were on the railing of the crib, and he placed his hand there as well. Their hands were slightly touching.

"I think I do," she said in a small voice.

"With the right bloke, of course," he finished answering for her.

She turned to face him and said, "That's a given. I don't think I can do it by myself, and I do mean physically, if you catch my meaning." She winked at him.

"You dirty little minx," he said. He knocked his hip into hers.

"Do you want to be married, have kids, the whole thing?" she asked.

He walked away from her and sat down in the rocker. He patted his knee, and she came and sat on his lap. "Have you gained weight?" he laughed.

"I think I've lost weight, actually," she said, not realizing he had been joking.

"I want to be married and have kids, Hermione, what about you?" he asked bluntly. His head was resting on her chest. She had her arms around his neck.

She turned in his lap, and was about to tell him she wanted all of that with him, when Harry came in the room. "There you two are. Is James asleep?" He walked over to his baby. "You should get downstairs; it's almost time for the cake." He picked the baby up and left the room.

Hermione tried to get off his lap, but he held on tight. She faced him again, and he said, "You didn't answer my question." She looked in his eyes, almost like it was the first time she had ever looked at him. She pushed herself off his lap and slowly went to the door, but he was quicker, and shut it tight. She stood in front of the door, looking at him. He pushed her, not to lightly, against the door, and put a hand on each side of her face.

"We need to get downstairs," she said, breathlessly.

"I need an answer," he said, almost as breathless.

"Draco," she said.

"What?" he asked amused.

"What are you going to do, ravish me here in the baby's nursery?" she inquired, with her head cocked to the side.

"I wasn't even thinking along those lines, but I'm game if you are." He pressed his body hard against hers. "On second thought," he said, "I think you're trying to change the subject. Please answer my question."

"I forgot what it was. Ask again," she urged, amused.

"I refuse to do that, on the basis of principle," he said.

"What principle would that be?" she asked.

"The principle that you're an intelligent, gifted witch, and acting otherwise does not do you credit. Now, answer the question, for I know you haven't forgotten what it was," he lectured.

She tried to slip out from under his arm, but he moved his arms lower.

"Fine, you bully," she said, lightly, not wanting to reveal the true gravity of the situation. "Do you want me to reveal that I think about marrying you someday? Fine, I entertain those thoughts occasionally. You want me to admit to the envy I feel when I hold little James in my arms, wishing it could be our child. Of course that's what I want. You want to say that I want us to grow old together and have a fairy tell happy ending, well, I say, who wouldn't want that. Is that what you wanted from me, Malfoy?" She finished her speech with almost no outward emotions, although on the inside, she was melting like butter.

"I really just wanted a 'yes' or 'no' answer, but I think I prefer your eloquent response more," he said. He dipped his head and kissed her lips.

After their kiss, Hermione said, "If I asked you to do something, would you please just do as I ask, and not ask me the reasons why?"

He was curious. "What is it?"

"I don't want us to lie to each other. I want us to always try to be truthful to each other," she said.

He was utterly confused. "What are you trying to say, Hermione?"

"I need you to give me back the copy of "**Hogwarts, a History"**, and I need it before the gala," she said bluntly, "but, I can't tell you why, and I need you not to ask me why."

The thing was he had planned to give it to her as part of their 'date' for the gala. This would throw a serious wrench in his plans. "Will I possibly get it back before our date?" he asked.

Not bloody well likely, she wanted to say, but instead she said, "Draco, please just give me the book."

"If it's that important to you, then you can have the bloody thing. I consider it yours anyway." He gave her another kiss, and they walked down to the party.

The party was finally dwindling down, and only a few people remained, Hermione and Draco included. Draco wanted to leave though, and he was trying to find Hermione to convince her to leave with him. He walked around the house, looking for her here and there. He finally located her, in an upstairs bedroom, sitting on a bed. He saw her through a crack in the door, and he thought she was sitting by herself. He thought she looked sad and alone. He thought wrong.

He went to open the door to the room, and he heard a male voice, which turned out to be Potter's, say, "But that's ridiculous. The fact that they won't let you ask Malfoy for the money doesn't make sense. I've never heard of such a thing. Besides, what's the difference between getting the money from Draco and having it given as an anonymous donation?" Draco moved closer to the door, careful not to be seen. What were they talking about and what did it have to do with him?

"I know Harry, and the thing is I don't want to sell that book. It means more to me than anyone will ever know. It's the reason Draco and I are together. I just don't want to screw up the gala either. My reputation and my job are riding on this."

"I'll give you the money," Harry stated.

"I thought of that, but they wouldn't like that I'm sure, since you're almost as big of a shareholder as Malfoy. Listen, I already found someone to buy the book, and they're willing to give the money directly as a donation, specifically for the gala, to offset the money the Parkinson's took away, so it'll look like the money is coming from them, and not from me. This is the way it has to be. I'm obligated now."

"Hermione, your life always seems so complicated," Harry laughed, as he hugged her. She was still on the bed, and Draco could see her bring her arms around his waist.

"Coming from the man whose life could fill at least seven books," she laughed.

She stood up, and Draco decided to let his presence be revealed. He opened the door, as if he had just found her, and said, "Can we leave now?" He seemed in a foul mood, so Hermione nodded to him, and told Harry goodbye.

She walked out into the hall and said, "Let me tell Ginny and Ron goodbye."

He said, "No, we're leaving now," and he grabbed her arm and apparated them directly to his house.


	13. 13 The Job Offer

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 13: The Job Offer:**

Hermione was somewhat disoriented. Draco had apparated them somewhere, but she didn't know quite where they were. Could this be his house? She had never been to his house before. She looked around and said, "Is this your house?"

"Yes," he said. Then, he walked up the stairs. She went into what she assumed was the living room.

He came back downstairs and she said, "Are you going to show me around?"

"No," he said. Then he handed her the book.

"Why haven't you brought me here before?" she asked, as she put the book down on a chair.

"I don't know," Draco answered. He still looked angry.

"Do you live here by yourself?" she asked.

"Are we playing twenty questions?" he asked snidely.

"I'm sorry." She picked up the book and sat with it on her lap.

He sat on one of the couches, and put his feet up on the coffee table.

"Do your parents still live at the Manor?" she asked.

Draco looked at her and said, "I thought we weren't playing twenty questions."

"What is your problem?" she pleaded as she stood. She threw the book back on the chair.

"You have fifteen more questions," he said with scorn.

"Fine!" She sat beside him on the couch. "Do your parents know about us?"

"No," he answered.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I have no clue." He faked a yawn.

"Am I boring you?" she asked.

"Do you want to waste one of your turns with a rhetorical question?" he asked.

Hermione stood up, picked up the book, turned suddenly and threw it at him. It was a rather large book, and if it had hit him, it might have hurt, but her aim wasn't as good as the time she threw the apple, so it landed on the couch next to him. He picked it up, stood up suddenly, and grabbed her arm as she was retreating from the room, and said, "Don't you want your book, Miss Honesty?"

What was that supposed to mean. Did he somehow know the truth?

"What did you mean by that?" Hermione was at her wit's end.

Draco walked away from her and sat back on the couch. "I seem to recall a conversation I just had with you in the nursery of the Potter's house; something about being honest with each other, and not telling lies. Remember? It was just a couple of hours ago. Do you recall the conversation to which I am referring?"

"I recall," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "I also recall asking you if you would give me the book back, and not ask any questions." 'He knows', she thought. She didn't know how, but she knew he knew.

Draco stood up, and said, "Show your self out. Goodbye, Miss Integrity."

Hermione sighed. Draco started toward the stairs. She reached for his arm, and he spun around so fast, it almost knocked her over. "Why are you angry?" she asked.

"If you won't be honest with me, I don't feel compelled to be honest with you. You don't deserve to know why I'm angry," Draco said, pointing at her chest. "Why do you want the damn book back?"

"You said it was my book."

He screamed out of frustration. "So help me, Granger, I'm going to shake the living daylights out of you," he said as he grabbed her arms.

"Lay one finger on me, and prepare to become a soprano," she threatened.

"You know what?" Draco said, as he let her go, "I don't care. I apparently love you more than you love me. I've been honest with you since that day at the hotel. If you can't afford me the same luxury, then I don't think I want to see you anymore." He again started up the stairs.

"GET BACK HERE!" she yelled, and actually stomped her foot. Then she said, "You just said you loved me."

"You're so thick, Granger," he said back.

"You've never come right out and said it before," she said, meekly.

"I didn't know you needed daily affirmations," he said, sitting on the stairs. "You should know that I love you."

She came and sat beside him. "You should know I love you as well."

"How would I know that?" he asked, "When you can't even confide in me."

"You heard me talking to Harry, didn't you?" Hermione asked him.

He looked at her, and with the palm of his hand, he hit her forehead and said, "About time you figured it out, Einstein." He moved closer to her on the stairs. "Why didn't you just come to me? I would have helped you out."

"Draco," Hermione began, "I'm an adult, and I have to learn to solve my own problems, and some things don't concern you."

"The book concerns me," he said with spite.

"I can't count on you to always bail me out of my problems," she concluded.

"Why not?" He really wanted to know.

"Draco, please understand, I'm alone now, I don't have a family anymore. I need to learn to take care of my own problems. Selling that book, to get the money that the Parkinsons reneged on, was the only way I could see to solve the problem," she stated. Then, she started to stand.

"Come back here," he said. She did. He pulled her back down on the stairs, to sit on the step below him, between his legs. "I'll say this only once. You may not have a mum and dad anymore, but you have me. I'm your family now, and it doesn't mean you're a weak person just because you ask someone for help. That's part of being in a relationship, Hermione. If you can't handle that, you should leave now."

She tried to stand, and he pulled her back. "Where are you going?"

"You told me to leave," Hermione said, defeated.

"I said if you couldn't handle it, to leave. Now, do you have anything else to tell me?" he asked.

She leaned against his right leg, and turned her face up to look at his face. "Not at the moment," she began, and then she said, "Wait, I just thought of something. You're a git."

"Gee, tell me something you haven't told me before," he said, pulling her hair.

Hermione sat back, and he enveloped her with his arms. Her arms were draped across his knees. "Here goes," she said, "full disclosure. You want the truth; I'll tell you the truth. Pansy's family withdrew their donation of 25,000 galleons that Gringotts was using to help pay for the cost of the gala. I was told to cut that much from my budget, but everything from the hotel to the entertainment, to the food, was already all paid for, so I told Mr. Moss I would ask you for the money, but he said the Board of Directors expressly prohibited me from asking you. It would be unseemly."

He kissed her cheek, and said, "I'll make it an anonymous donation. They won't know it's from me; 25,000 galleons is nothing."

Hermione said, "Draco, do you happen to just have that much money lying around your house?"

"Of course not," he said, wondering why she asked that.

"Do you have an account with any other wizarding bank, of which I'm not aware?" she asked.

"Are we still playing twenty questions?" he joked. She turned to look at him again, and frowned, and then moved to sit beside him. He answered finally. "No."

"Then don't you think that bunch of greedy little goblins that comprise the Board of Directors, would deduce that the money came from you. You withdraw that much, and then that much is just magically donated."

"I'll tell them I need a new pair of shoes," he joked.

"Draco, stop joking," she commanded.

"Whom are you planning on selling the book to, may I ask?" Draco was tired of all this.

"I was discussing the whole thing with your assistant, Scott, the other day, after our meeting, and he said he knew someone who collected rare books, and he said he could arrange for them to buy the book in exchange for a donation to the gala fund," Hermione explained.

Draco narrowed his eyes, and said, "You really do know Scott is gay, right?"

"So you keep telling me." She laughed. "I think he might actually have a crush on you," she said.

"No he doesn't, because he's not really gay," he said, hitting her arm.

"Whatever you say," she replied, "and stop hitting me."

"Let me get his straight," Draco finally spoke, "you confided in Potter, and even in my assistant Scott, but you didn't confide in me. Lovely."

She didn't know what to say. He made a very good point.

He stood up and walked back down the few steps to the foyer. She followed. Draco said, "This is my fault. The Parkinsons withdrew their money because of me."

"No, because of us. It's my fault as well," Hermione reminded.

"No, the blame goes to me," he amended.

"The blame?" She didn't like him applying 'blame' to their relationship.

"Whatever," he said distracted. He was pacing around the foyer. "What's the good of having money if I can't use if for good? Whenever I want to use it for evil, no problem, but when I want to use it for good, I can't." He yelled to no one in particular.

"The book will go to someone who will appreciate it as much as I do. I'm alright with this decision." She put her arms around his waist. "Anyway, I have four other copies of **Hogwarts a History** at home."

He kissed the top of her head, and said, "But none of them are from me, and none of them cost one million galleons."

She looked at him, smiled and said, "You can buy me another book. That's what we'll do for our first date. You can buy me a book and I can buy you one."

"A book. How exciting," he deadpanned. "You're such a hopeless romantic. What shall I buy you for our first anniversary, a calendar?"

"What gift would you prefer?" she inquired with a small laugh.

He touched her cheek and said, "Something involving you, a bathtub, whip crème, and a big red bow."

She gave him a strange look, and then said, "May I see your house?"

"You may see my bedroom." He winked.

"That would be nice," she smiled.

"You're a brazen hussy," he joked.

Hermione shook her head and said, "Honestly, Draco. No one talks like that anymore. Sometimes you speak as if you're from a different century."

He hit her arm, yet again.

"Does that mean I'm 'it'?" she asked him.

Draco looked confused and said, "What does that mean?"

"You know," she said, "the child's game. Tag."

"There's a child's game called 'it'? And why did you call me 'Tag'? Are you talking Muggle to me?" Draco was very confused.

"Are you serious?" she asked. "There's a Muggle child's game called 'tag' where someone is 'it' and the person who is 'it' has to chase the other people around, and when they 'tag' another person, then they're 'it' and they have to tag someone else." She realized her explanation didn't make a lot of sense.

He walked up to her, felt her forehead, and said, "Are you delirious? Do you have a fever?"

She slapped his hand away, and said, "No you idiot. Let me explain again."

"I don't want you to," he said, seriously, "it sounds like a stupid game. Muggle children must not have any fun."

Hermione sat back on the stairs and said, "What do wizard children play? Who has the biggest broomstick?" As soon as she said it, she regretted it.

"Yes, and I always won that one," he joked.

"Did you also play, pass around the cauldron?" she joked.

"I loved that one," he said. "Fun times, indeed."

"Then I bet you really loved hide the house elves," she said, standing back up.

Draco smiled and said, "That was an actual game." Then he snickered.

"You're talking rubbish. If you're serious, then that's awful," she chastised.

"They didn't mind, unless you forgot to find them," Draco said. Then he walked up to her, hit her on her arm and said, "You're it, Granger!" and he ran away from her.

She didn't know what possessed her, but she started chasing him. They ran into his dining room, and they ran around the table three times. He finally slid right over the damn thing, and tried to escape her, but he slipped on a rug and fell to the floor. She looked down at him and said, "Are you okay?" through her laughter.

He raised his arm, and said, "Help me up, Granger."

She walked over to him, and slapped his hand, and yelled, "You're it, loser!" and she ran up the stairs.

He stayed on the floor for a moment and yelled, "No sympathy for the maimed at all." Then he stood up and ran after her.

She ran into one of the many bedrooms. She hid behind a wardrobe. He came down the hall and said, "Come out, come out, wherever you are? I'll find you!"

She actually felt somewhat anxious. Her breathing became ragged. She decided to venture her head around the corner of the wardrobe, and as she inched it out slowly, she was shocked beyond belief when she saw that he was standing right in front of her. She let out a blood-curdling scream and hit him several times with her hand.

"YOU SCARED ME!" she yelled. He wrapped his arms around her waist and threw her on the bed, and then he jumped on the bed and landed on her.

"GET OFF!" Hermione screamed. They fell back on the bed, side by side, both out of breath. "Honestly, you're 28 years old; acting like a child," she said, out of breath.

"And how old are you?" he said, poking her ribs. Then he said, "You're it!" and he jumped off the bed and bounded out of the room.

She was tired of playing, but Hermione Granger was not a quitter. Also, she liked to win everything she did. She could not let him tag her last. She would tag him one more time and then they could quit. She walked out of the room and started searching the house for him.

Honestly, did he need a six-bedroom house? She looked for twenty minutes, and she hadn't even left the upstairs. She was yelling his name. Where was he? She went into what must have been his bedroom. She looked around. She picked up a few things that were on the dresser and the desk. This was a cold looking room. There were no personal affects at all. She only assumed it was his room, because it was the largest bedroom in the house. She opened the closet. It had his clothes contained inside.

She sat on the bed, and said out loud, but to herself, "I'm going to get him a picture of me, to put on his night table." She fell back on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. It was late. She had to work the next day. Where was he? She yelled, at the top of her voice, "DRACO!" Suddenly, something, or someone, grabbed her ankle. She yelled again, and removed her ankle from the person's icy cold hands. She jumped up on the bed, still screaming. If it was Draco, he had yet to reveal himself. She sat back on the bed, and rolled over on her stomach. She slowly looked over the edge of the bed, and didn't see anyone.

She moved back to the center of the bed, and her body came into contact with something hard. She turned around quickly and screamed for the third time that evening. He jumped on her, and put his full body weight top of her. She was on her back.

"You're a loud little thing!" he said, and then added, "In this picture you're going to get for me, for my nightstand, will you have clothing on or not?"

She was breathing hard. He didn't know if she was still frightened, or if she was as excited as he was. He sat on her, straddling her body. He started telling her, in a calm voice. "Sh, Hermione. It's okay." He leaned down and kissed her lips softly. He decided right then that he was going to make love to her, and there would be no interruptions this time. He leaned over and kissed her again. This time, he played with her lips for a while, and then he kissed her long and hard. He lay beside her, and kissed her neck. He put his hand on her neck.

He watched her for a moment. He let his fingers feel her pulse. It was still rapid. From the game they had just played, or from the anticipation of what was to come? Her eyes were shut. What did that mean? He ran his hand down the center of her chest. He rested it on her stomach. He reached under her shirt. He played with the hem of her shirt for a moment. He kissed her cheek, her forehead, her lips, and her neck. He put his hand under her shirt. He had yet to touch her breasts.

He kissed her mouth, hungry for her. Starving for her. She kissed him back. She was just as famished. He moaned for her, but she hummed for him. He liked that. It was like he was fine-tuning her.

He moved from her, and removed his clothing. All of it. She looked at him. She didn't say anything. He had such broad shoulders. Broader than she imagined. He had a nice body. She blushed, which made him blush. She put her hand up to her mouth and giggled.

He said, "Do you see something funny?" She laughed again. He crawled up her body. He unbuttoned her jeans. He removed her shoes and socks. She let him do it all. She just remained still. He pulled down her pants. He threw them off the bed. He ran his fingertips up her right leg, across her pelvic bone, and down the left leg. He straddled her again, and she turned her head. He put his finger under her chin and said, "I want your full attention, Granger."

She took a deep breath. He removed her shirt. She now was in only her knickers and bra. He kissed her stomach. His lips twirled around her navel. She giggled again. His breath was warm and moist on her skin. He put both hands under her bra straps, and slowly pulled them down her arms. He pulled her bra down more, and then unclasped the back. He threw it off the bed. She hummed again. That was the most erotic sound Draco had ever heard.

His fingers lightly traced her rib cage. He was being so gentle. His touch was burning her, marking her, branding her. She was his.

Hermione said, "Draco, please." _'What does she want?'_ he wondered. He would soon find out.

He let his fingertips gracefully trace her hip and pelvic bone. One hand traveled to where her heat was. He explored her with his fingertips, just lightly touching. His mouth was slowly following the path along her body that his fingers had just taken, as his hands played along.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She had her eyes closed once more. She found his touch electrifying, and terrifying at the same time. His touches, his caresses, were so tentative, that she almost felt she was imagining things. She felt a mixture of pleasure, pain, and gratification. He lowered himself so that he was between her legs, and he kissed her gently where his hands had just been. She thought she would die. She was going to die. She was quietly saying, "No, no, no." He knew that meant, yes, yes, yes.

She was so close, so he decided not to withhold his own pleasure any longer. He glided into her, and their bodies intertwined. He loved her. He loved making love to her. He would love her for all of time. He was in total, unbridled rapture. He was now moaning. Between her small hums, and his loud guttural moans, it was almost as if they were singing in harmony.

He wanted his release, but she had not yet had hers. It would be better for them both, if she climaxed first. He could not wait much longer. Finally, she started crying. Actual tears. He was at the point he couldn't pull out if he wanted to, but he realized in that split second her tears were not from pain. He finally reached his limit, and he had to have his release. Hers was close to follow.

She was still crying. He pulled out finally, and put a hand on her cheek. He kissed her eyes, and tasted her salty tears. "Don't cry," he managed to say. He didn't know how he had the strength to speak.

She put her hands up to her face, and cried even harder. Now she had his full attention. What was wrong? Did he do something wrong? These were more than tears of joy. He sat up beside her and said in a voice that sounded sterner than he meant for it to sound, "What's wrong?"

She curled up on her side, away from him. He touched her hip. He leaned down, and kissed the same hip, and ran his hand along her arm. "Hermione, did I hurt you or something?" he pleaded, gentler.

She turned back toward him and said, "I feel so stupid."

He frowned. "Why do you feel stupid?" He felt angry. He didn't know why she would feel stupid, when they had just made love.

"I feel stupid because I'm crying, and I'm crying because I suddenly realized, while we were in the middle of making love, just how much I truly love you," she said.

He pulled her to his chest, and covered them both with the bedspread. Then he said, "You are perhaps the most complex person I have ever met, and please don't ever change."

He tried to stay awake, because for some strange reason he wanted her to fall asleep first. He was afraid if he fell asleep first, she might disappear, as if in a puff of smoke. But, he couldn't fight slumber any longer. He drifted off to sleep, and when he finally fell asleep, she crawled out of bed. She put on her clothes, and went downstairs to retrieve the book. She came back upstairs to his room, and silently went to his desk. She wrote him a note, put it in the front cover of the book, and put the book on the pillow where her head had just rested. She brushed back his hair, and leaned down and kissed him, and apparated home. He woke up, when he heard the gentle 'pop' of her apparition. He sat up, and immediately his eyes went to the book. He got up, found his wand, and illuminated the room with light.

He picked up the book, and the note fell out. He read the note:

_Draco, it's my turn to give the book back to you. I'll find another way to get the money. By the way, I believe I'm winning the book war, because I've given it to you more times than you've given it to me. I love you. I'll see you tomorrow. Hermione._

He took the note and put it back in the book. She wouldn't have to find a way to come up with the money. He already had that all figured out.

Hermione went to work that morning, feeling a sense of apprehension. She really had no clue how she was going to get the money, and if she couldn't get the money, she would probably lose her job, because she wouldn't be able to cut the budget at this late date.

She went into her office, and said to Gail, "No interruptions for a while, okay?"

"Too late for that," Gail said, "Draco Malfoy's in your office."

She walked into her office and Draco was sitting behind her desk.

"Just act like you own the place," she said, as she took off her jacket and hung it up on the coat tree.

He stood up and gave her a good morning kiss. "Did you sleep well last night?" he asked.

"Not really," she answered. "Did you?"

"I would have slept better if you hadn't left me," he said.

She sat in her recently abandoned chair and said, "Sorry about that. Nothing personal. I had to go home and work on a solution to my problem."

He walked up to her, and said, "Open either your right desk drawer, or your left. I don't care which. They both will have solutions to your problem. But, I must warn you, pick wisely."

She narrowed her gaze as him, and looked at both drawers. She picked the right, and it contained the book. "What's in the other drawer?" she asked him.

"Twenty-five thousand galleons," he said, as if it meant nothing.

She bit her lip. She looked up at him. He said, "You have to decide. Pick one or the other. I can't pick for you."

"If I pick the money," she started, "then I might lose my job, because they'll surely know it came from you. If I pick the book, I'll be sad." She put her head on her desk, and said, "Help me, Draco."

"The answer's before you," he said, "to me, it's a clear choice. I don't know why it's not clear to you."

"If I pick the money, where would I work when I get fired?" she said, with an air of anger in her voice.

"You could work for me," he said, sitting on her desk, just like he did three weeks ago.

"What would I do for you?" she asked.

"My company needs someone to handle charitable donations. I also don't have anyone for public relations. You would do pretty much the same thing you do here," Draco explained.

"Everyone will think I got the job by sleeping with you," she said with a hitch in her voice.

"Well, that's partially true," he said, seriously.

"I don't want people to think that," she explained.

"Then sell the damn book," he retorted. "Although I think working for me is the better choice of the two, Apple Cheeks."

"Don't call me stupid names while I'm in the midst of a crisis," she said, standing.

"You always over-react, Cupcake," he laughed. She saw nothing funny in that statement. She looked as if she might hit him, and he added, "What? I'm just still trying out different nickname for you. I need to find the right one."

"Here," she said, picking the book up and handing it to him, "you can take the book to the damn gala as your date, if you call me one more ridiculous name." He took the book from her, and put it on her desk.

He stood up and said, "Let me know which one you decide to do. I told you, it's up to you, and I'll support you either way, my little Peach Blossom."

She was walking toward her door when he said that, and she turned around and looked for something to throw at him, but he rushed her and grabbed her hands, and put them behind her back.

"What's more important to you Hermione, this stupid job and the gala, or our relationship?" he spat.

"Oh, I see. You really do care which one I pick!" she yelled. "Why give me a choice then? If I pick the money, it means I love you more than my job, and all is right in Draco Malfoy's little world. If I pick the book, it means I love my job more than you, and isn't that a shame for poor pitiful you! You're the same as Ron. You want me to pick you over everything. You don't want me to have a job AND a relationship." She tried to squirm out of his clutches, but he held fast.

"I'm not saying anything of the sort!" Draco yelled back. "I said I would support whichever decision you made! If you pick the damn book, it just means you pick the damn book." He let her go, walked to her window, and looked outside. He was trying to conceal his anger, but he was quite unsuccessful. He was angry because she hit the nail on the head. He _did_ want her to pick the money. He _did_ want her to say their relationship was more important than her damn job. Was anything wrong with that?

She sat in a chair by her desk. She was taking out her anger on the wrong person, and she realized that. But, she didn't feel like apologizing. Not yet.

He said, "I'll be back at one o'clock. We can go to lunch. Don't even tell me which you've picked, if you don't want to." He started to leave, and continued with, "Just stop making everything so difficult, and stop treating me as if I'm your enemy. I haven't deserved that title for ten years." He opened her door, and turned back around. "Will I see you for lunch?" he inquired.

"I need to get back to work; I'll let you know later," she said, as she walked around to sit at her desk.

He came to stand in front of her. "I said, let's go to lunch, and I'll see you at one."

She looked up at him, frowned, and said, "I'll let you know."

"Dammit, Hermione!" he slammed his hands on her desk. "I'll return at exactly one o'clock, and you had better be ready to go to lunch with me."

"Are you a cave man?" she asked, standing, facing him.

"Where do you want to go to lunch?" he asked with malice.

Hermione took a deep breath, and tried to count to ten, but only made it to five, when she exploded, "Get out of my office!" She sat back down and put her head back on her desk.

"Hermione?" he asked in a clipped tone as he sat back down on her desk. She looked up at him, and then sat back up in her chair. "With my looks, and your brain, we can accomplish anything. We could rule the world. If you'd like, we'll figure this out together. I won't leave it all up to you," Draco finally concluded.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and said, "Yes, with my morals and your disdain for all that are good and right in the world, I can tell we would be an awesome team."

"Exactly," he whispered. He pulled her to stand between his legs. She rested her head on his shoulder. "You have a good head on your shoulders, and a wonderful brain resting inside. I have a beautiful head on my shoulders, and a mediocre brain inside, so the way I see it, we compliment each other. We'll figure this thing out."

She looked up and said, "It's so tempting to take the money, and just come work for you. I think I could actually find working for your company challenging and rewarding. Somehow, I know how Eve must have felt when she was tempted by the serpent with the apple from the tree of knowledge."

"Am I the apple or the serpent?" he asked. She cocked her head, as if to say, 'which do you think', and he said, "Yes, I know, hiss, hiss."

She sat back down and said, "What good is magic, if I can't just magically conjure up some money? I've always wondered about that."

"Haven't we all," he said, with a small laugh. He got off her desk, and said, "Is lunch on or not?"

"I thought I had no choice in the matter?" she said sarcastically.

"Of course you have a choice, Banana Muffin," he said and then he laughed, "That one was stupid, I admit. I think I'll stick with 'Granger'."

"See you at 1:00 pm, stupid git," she said, walking over to him. He raised one eyebrow, and she said, "What, you can have a nickname for me, but I can't have one for you?" He pinched her cheek, and then he walked away. She sat back at her desk. It was time to decide her fate


	14. 14 The Decision

**All characters belong to JRK:**

**Chapter 14: The Decision**

Draco showed up directly at 1:00 pm. Hermione was nowhere to be found. Her assistant told Draco that Hermione had left several hours earlier, and she didn't know where she had gone.

He was just about to leave, when Hermione came running into the office. "I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to be late."

Draco said, "I thought you were standing me up."

"Never," she said, and then she leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. He smiled at her.

"Did you make a decision?" he asked.

"Yes," she said without elaborating.

"Do I have a new employee?" he joked.

"I'll tell you after the gala," she said. She was being evasive. He didn't like that. They walked out of the bank, and Hermione asked, "Where are we eating."

"It's a surprise," he gleamed. He took her arm and apparated to the "surprise" location.

"We're at my house," she said with a frown.

"You are a bright one, aren't you?" he said, condescending.

"Why are we here? I'm not cooking us lunch," she said adamantly.

"I've had your cooking; I wouldn't wish that on my worse enemy. Just follow me, Granger," he said as he took her hand and walked outside. He opened her garage door, and beside her car was a bright, new, shiny, yellow Fiat.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's called a car. Muggles use it for transportation. The first car was invented by a bloke name Henry Ford in 1908..." he couldn't continue, because she put her hand over his mouth.

"Why is it here?" she asked, removing her hand from his mouth.

"It's for you. I know you love your old car, but I thought you might like a new one. I want you to teach me to drive," he said, with a smile.

She squealed in delight, apparently just taking in what he said. She jumped up and hugged his neck, with all her might. "Oh, I just love having a rich boyfriend!" she shouted.

"Is that why you love me, for my money?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"That and your looks," she joked. She walked around the car, and said, "Why yellow?"

"You like yellow daisies. We can change the colour, if you'd like."

"No, no, I love it just the way it is," she said again, opening the door and getting in behind the wheel.

He got in on the other side, and handed her the keys. "I know nothing will ever replace 'your baby' over there, but I had hoped you would be pleased."

"Pleased? I'm ecstatic. Who cares about my old car? I have a new car!" she started the engine, and then actually hugged the steering wheel and said; "Doesn't it sound divine?"

"You're so strange, Granger, it's just a car," he surmised, leaning back in his seat. "Take us somewhere to eat."

She drove out of the driveway, down the alley, and turned on the main street. "Now, be sure you pay attention," he warned.

She drove around a while, with a smile on her face the whole time. She drove to a fast food restaurant. She got out of the car, and he stayed behind. She opened the door again and said, "Are you coming?"

He frowned and said, "I have yet to ever eat in one of those types of places, and I don't intend to now." She just shrugged, walked inside, and left him in the car.

After several minutes, he realized she wasn't coming back out, so he went in to find her. The place was absolutely crawling with Muggles. He looked around for her, and she was sitting in a booth. He took out a handkerchief, and wiped off the seat, and then sat down. She laughed.

"I bought you a hamburger and some fries and a coke," she said, handing him food in a little paper bag.

"The food is in a paper sack," he said.

"Yes, it is, you idiot," she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. He glared at her, and she said, "What, you can call me pet names, but I can't call you any?"

He cautiously opened the bag, and removed the contents. He took the wrapper off the sandwich slowly, and then he poked it twice.

"Merlin, Draco. It's not going to attack you. Don't embarrass yourself. Just eat the damn thing," she hissed.

He took a bite. It tasted strange. He looked at his drink. "How am I supposed to drink this? It has some sort of lid on the top."

Hermione said something under her breath about 'coming from another planet', and took his straw, removed the paper, and put it in the soda lid, and handed it back to him. She then took a sip of her own soda to show him how it was done, and he gave her a disgusted look. He pushed the food away from him, and said, "Can you hurry, so we can go somewhere else. I need real food to sustain myself."

She ate as slowly as she could, just to irritate him, he was sure. He finally started to eat. He enjoyed the 'fries', and the coke wasn't half bad, once he caught on to how to use the straw. When they were finished, he said, "I buy you a new car, and you buy me fast food. Somehow, I think I'm getting short changed in this deal." They both stood up, and she cleared the table. He threw some Muggle money down on the table.

"What is that for?" she quizzed.

"You forgot to leave a tip," he said. She looked at the Muggle money on the table, and decided to leave it alone. It would make someone's day to find such a large amount on a table at a fast food restaurant. She took his hand and led him outside.

Before they got to the car, she mused, "It'll be fun teaching you all about my culture, and I can't wait to teach you to drive." She came up and said, "This was a nice little date, wasn't it."

"Hey, you just called this a date!" He almost jumped up and down. "You said you would sleep with me on our first date. The car is a bit small, but I think we could manage in there. Or, maybe we should go back to your house. Your bed would be fine."

She laughed, hit his arm and said, "This isn't our first official date. That'll be the gala, and no one is having sex in this car." She got in, and looked around and thought, 'it's too small for sex anyway'. She looked at him; he was still outside the car. She rolled down the window and said, "Get in."

"Give me sex, and I will," he said. A young couple walking by heard him and snickered. Hermione was so embarrassed. She rolled up the window and drove away, leaving him behind. She was laughing the whole way home. Just as she expected, he was waiting for her in her garage.

"I hope you didn't let anyone see you disapparate," she said.

"They're just a bunch of dumb Muggles anyway," he told her flatly.

She got a hurt look on her face, and he walked up to her and said, "When will you ever get a sense of humour?" He kissed her and reached around and grabbed her bum, and gave it a squeeze. "Do you really like your car?" he asked.

"Very much," she said, sounding truly happy.

"Do you like it as much as you like me?" he asked, with a smile.

She thought for a moment, and was planning on saying, 'you're a close second,' but she decided to be honest, not humorous. So she said, "I love you so much more than I could ever love a car."

He pulled her into an embrace. He thought she was going to say that he was a close second. Her honesty surprised him. It was a pleasant surprise.

They decided to meet later for dinner. He promised her a picnic. She reminded him that even though it was April, it was very cold, and it would be late when she got off work. He told her to leave it all to him. They agreed to meet at his house at six o'clock.

As he arrived back at his office, something dawned on him. Why did she have no problem at all taking a very expensive car from him, but she had some kind of 'moral issue' taking the book from him, and the 25,000 galleons for the gala. Of course, what did he know? Maybe she did take the 25,000. She told him he would find out the night of the Spring Fling.

He sat at his desk and he thought of a way he could find out if she had taken the money over the book. He called his assistant into his office. He asked Scott if had heard anything from Hermione about contacting the person he recommended for purchasing the book. Scott told Draco he didn't feel right betraying Hermione's confidence. Draco reminded Scott that Miss Granger didn't sign his paychecks, nor did she have the ability to fire him. Both of those honours went to Draco. Scott spilled his guts. He told Draco that Hermione came to him that morning and told him to go ahead and tell his contact that he could have the book, for the agreed upon donation to the gala fund. Draco told Scott to leave his office, and then yelled, "Make sure you don't ever talk to Miss Granger again, or I'll fire your arse!"

Damn that woman. She was so stupid. He called Scott back into his office, and Scott was on the verge of tears. "For Merlin's sakes, man, get a hold of yourself. I need to know who bought that book." Scott told Draco, and he found the information extremely enlightening.

Draco was hurt that she would decide to sell the book, over losing her job. But he couldn't think of these things at the moment. He had other plans to make.

Hermione went home to change for her 'picnic'. She was feeling almost panicked. She was regretting her decision to sell the book. That bloody book! What was she going to tell Draco?

Draco had ordered take out, and sent all his elves away for the night. He prepared 'their picnic' on the living room floor. He wouldn't let his anger over the book ruin their evening tonight. Tomorrow was a different story. Tomorrow he planned on being very angry indeed.

At 6:00 pm, Hermione was leaving for Draco's, when she said to herself, "I need to get that book back!" She would have to be late to the picnic. She had to see a man about a book.

A half an hour later, Draco was pacing the living room. Who did Granger think she was? He was angry with her, but he was willing to forgive and forget, if only for tonight, and she had the unadulterated gall to not even show up tonight!

Thirty minutes after that, Hermione arrived at her house in tears. The man refused to sell the book back to her. She even offered more money. She still had Draco's money from earlier. She would have used it, if she could have. Why was she such a fool?

One hour late! The bitch was one hour late. Draco kicked the bottle of wine that was chilling (but was now warm), and the bottle shattered and wine went everywhere. This was not right. She was in the wrong. He was angrier than he had been since he had met her, and he had been angry a lot since he had met her.

She better have a good excuse for being so late. She better have a broken ankle, or an amputated limb. No other excuse could apply. He was just about to go find her, when he heard the pop of her apparition. He turned to yell at her, but then he saw her looking so small, sad, and alone, his anger melted away.

"I can explain why I'm so late. Please, just hear me out." She looked down at the broken wine bottle. He must have been really angry.

"I sold the book," she began, "I'm so sorry. I changed my mind, and went to the man I sold it to, and tried to buy it back. I even offered him more money, but he said he was an avid collector, and he wouldn't part with it for any amount of money. I am so, so, sorry. You can hate me; I know I hate me right now." She hung her head, in shame. "I was afraid to come here and tell you all of this. That's why I'm so late. I could have waited to tell you, but after what happened the last time, I didn't want to lie to you."

Was he angry? Hermione couldn't read his emotions at the moment, because he wasn't displaying any. He didn't look angry, happy, sad, or disappointed. He didn't even have that constipated look he gets when he's thinking hard. He had no emotions at all. Total apathy. He walked up to her, and she actually took a step back.

"Do you think I am going to hit you?" he asked, taken aback that she might think that.

"You have a history of violence." She pointed at the wine bottle. He took his wand and cleaned up the mess. Then he came and gave her a hug. She hugged him back.

"What's done is done, and we can't do anything about it now. It was just a book. It doesn't change what we feel for each other. Now, let's eat before our picnic is completely ruined," Draco said.

He led her to the tablecloth on the floor, and helped her down to the ground.

"I thought you stood me up for our date," he said, as he sat beside her.

"This isn't our date. Our date is the fourteenth of April," she reminded him, taking a bite of roll.

"Okay, I thought you stood me up for our un-date." He rolled his eyes.

There was a picnic basket, candles, and he opened some more wine. He reached over and poured some into a glass for her. She put it down suddenly, and went and got her purse. She sat back down. She reached inside and gave him a picture in a picture frame. "Here's the picture I promised you for your nightstand." She handed him a picture, which looked as if it was taken last summer, and she had a pretty, white sundress on and a daisy in her hair. A yellow daisy. The picture Hermione was waving and smiling. She blew a kiss. He smiled and told her thank-you. He gave her a car today, and she gave him a picture, and this time he thought he got the better end of the bargain, yes he did.

"Maybe someday soon we can get a picture of us together," he said, filling a plate for her.

"We'll have a picture booth at the Spring Fling. We can get one there," she agreed, taking the plate he offered her. "Then if you want, you can replace that picture of me with the one of us together."

"Not on your life, Granger," he argued. "No one's ever taking this picture from me. They'll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands."

"Well, yuck. Nice dinner conversation," she joked.

They started eating, and she asked, "Draco?"

"Yes, sugar plum," he said, and then he ducked, barely dodging the knife she threw at him.

"First, no more nicknames, second, did your house elves prepare this food?"

"No, I had it delivered from my favourite restaurant," he answered, taking a bite. "Why?" he finally asked.

"Do you think it taste funny?" she asked.

"No. Maybe your unsophisticated palate can't distinguish gourmet food from that rubbish you eat from paper bags," he said with arrogance.

She took another couple of bites. Maybe he had a point. No, he was wrong. Something was wrong with the food. "Draco, something's wrong with this food. I'm sure there is."

"Have you ever had Fowl before? This isn't chicken, you known. It's a game bird," he tried to explain.

"Well, this Fowl is foul, in fact, it's rancid. I can't eat this, and you shouldn't either. It's terrible." She put her plate down and made a face.

"Granger, there's nothing wrong with this food, now shut up and eat." He was becoming peeved at her. The food did taste a bit off, he decided, so he said, "You know, if it is bad, it's probably because it sat out for an hour, waiting for Queen Hermione to arrive." He put his plate down. He couldn't finish either.

They sat on his couch with their wine. After about an hour, and nary a word from either, Hermione was definitely beginning to feel nauseated. She curled up in a ball on the couch, and he sprawled out on the other end. He wasn't feeling very well at all. He felt strange. Merlin, he felt nausea. He hated feeling nausea. He hated that feeling more than anything. Well, no, he hated what came with nausea the most.

"Draco?" Hermione said in a small voice.

"What?" He could barely speak.

"I feel sick," she said.

"Me, too," he said.

"Something was definitely wrong with that food," she said, trying to sit up.

"No, I'm sure it's not from the food," he said, although he _was sure_ it was from the food.

"Maybe it did sit out too long," she said.

"Maybe it was just cooked wrong, or something," he said. He didn't want her to blame herself. He blamed her enough for both of them.

She was now holding her stomach, rocking back and forth. He was doing the same.

"Draco, how many bathrooms do you have in this house?" she managed to ask.

"Seven," he stood up.

"How many on this floor?"

"Two."

He stood up, grabbed her hand, and ran with her to the bathroom off the foyer. He practically threw her in, and then he ran to the bathroom that was off the downstairs study.

Twenty minutes later he couldn't even lift his head off the floor. He threw up everything he ate that night, and maybe even some of the food he ate earlier that week. He knew if he was a really good boyfriend, he would go check on Granger right now, but he didn't think he could travel farther than the toilet. Why did he have the house elves leave tonight? And why was the only potion he had for this type of thing all the way upstairs in his bathroom? Damn. He was going to be sick again.

She found a washcloth, ran it under the tap, and put the wet cloth on her head. She was going to try to crawl, for she knew she wouldn't be able to stand, so she was going to crawl to find Draco to make sure that he was okay.

He had just wet a washcloth and cleaned off his face. He was going to go to Hermione. Just then, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "It's open," he said. He couldn't stand up to open the bloody door.

"I can't stand, so I don't know if I can open the door. I crawled here. Are you okay?" It was Hermione. He crawled over to the door, and reached up to the handle, and the door opened for her. She had the same idea he had. She came to check on him. Add that to the list of things people did when they were in love.

She crawled into the bathroom, and plopped down near the toilet. He came up beside her, and pressed the cloth to her head. She looked so small and pale. She told him something was wrong with the food, and he wouldn't listen.

She looked up at him as he wiped her brow. She thought that he looked paler than usual, and he usually looked fairly devoid of colour, so that meant he looked very pale indeed. He fell on the cold marble floor beside her. They had food poisoning, because she was late coming to dinner, because she sold her book. She wanted to die.

She sat up and threw up in the toilet he had just recently vacated. He came up and held her hair. He always heard that boyfriends did that for their girlfriends. That would certainly be classified as something you did for someone you love.

She lay back down and said, "Do you have a potion we can take?"

"It's all the way upstairs," he responded.

"Could you call one of your house elves?" she asked.

"I sent them to one of my other houses tonight. I wanted us to be alone. I thought we could have sex on the living room floor." He wasn't kidding. Those were his real intentions.

ONE of his other houses? "How many houses do you have?" she asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"A few," he answered. He felt nauseated again. He couldn't possibly throw up in front of her. He would be mortified. "I'm going to try to get that potion." He stood, wearily, and left the bathroom. As he was leaving, he said, "Stay there," to her. Now honestly, where did he think she was going to go?

She crawled back over to the commode and was sick again. He came back in the room. She looked so weak. She was smaller than him, and she had thrown up more. She probably couldn't take much more before she became dehydrated. He kneeled beside her, and put the wet rag back on her head. He handed her the potion and said, "Here." She drank some and fell back down to the floor. He took some when he was upstairs. He already felt marginally better. He lifted her up, with some difficulty, and took her back to the couch. He put her down, and then he lay down beside her. She had a thin layer of sweat covering her face. He took her hand. He was concerned for her. He knew that a person who threw up a lot could lose a lot of protein and electrolytes. She probably needed more than an anti-vomiting potion.

"Hermione?" he asked concerned.

She didn't respond. She seemed to be asleep. He watched her chest rise and fall, and decided to just let her sleep. He got off that couch, went to the other one opposite her, and fell asleep as well.

She woke up in the middle of the night. She saw she was no longer on the bathroom floor. She looked over and saw Draco, on his stomach, on the other couch, with his arm draped on the floor. 'Poor Guy', she thought. She stood up and walked over to him, and sat on the couch beside his body. She put her hand in his hair. It was sticky. Yuck. She said, "Draco, are you better?"

"I'm not that great, no, how are you?" he managed to say, moving over to his side, to make more room for her. She extended her body down next to him, and put her back up against his front.

"I'm about the same as you," she answered.

"So, that was a fun un-date," he said out of the blue. She didn't even have the strength to agree.

"Hermione?" he asked. No response.

"Hermione?!" he asked more severe, rolling to his back, and turning her to her back as well.

"What?" she said with a feeble voice, cradling herself next to his chest. He put his arm around her.

"I'm going to promise you something right now, and if I ever break this promise, you have my permission to use the unforgivable curse of your choice on me."

"Do tell," she said, opening one eye, to look at him.

"Next time you tell me food is bad, I promise I'll believe you," he said.

"That's all I've ever asked of you," she said as she tried to smile.

"Hermione?" he asked again. No response again.

"Hermione?!" Again, with more force.

"WHAT?" she answered irritated.

"I love you," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know," she said, yawning.

After several minutes, she said, "Draco?"

No answer. Was he ignoring her because she didn't respond right away to him, the last two times he called her name? Brilliant, she thought, 'I just won't say his name again, and the curiosity will become too much for him and he will answer me without me even having to say his name again.' She only had to wait a couple more seconds.

"What?" he finally asked. So predictable.

"Next time you buy me a book for a million galleons I promise to keep it," she said.

"That's all I ask of you," he said, mocking what she had said to him. He pulled her closer, and then he said, "It was probably that damn Muggle food we had at lunch that made us sick, you know." He didn't really think so.

"Maybe it was the Muggle germs. You might not have wiped them all off with your handkerchief earlier," she joked.

"I didn't think of that. You may be right," he responded. She didn't know if he was joking or not, and didn't even care.

"Draco?" she asked again.

This time he responded right away, "Yes?"

"Thanks for holding my hair earlier, while I was vomiting," she whispered.

"That's what why I'm here. I'm you hair holder when you vomit, and your snot rag when you need to blow your nose," he said, feeling very tired. "Hermione?" he asked.

Was she really not going to respond again?

"HERMIONE!!" he practically yelled.

"What!!!" she whined.

"Why do I have to say your name twice to get your attention, and you only have to say mine once? Must everything be a war between us?"

"Is that what you wanted to ask me?" she said with her eyes closed again.

"No, I wanted to say, thanks for coming and checking on me earlier. I was just getting ready to check on you, when you came to me. I wanted you to know that."

"Draco?" she asked.

"What?' he said again.

"Nothing," she said. She just wanted to see if he would respond on the first try. She loved him. She closed her eyes again, and tried to go back to sleep.

He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed. She was falling back to sleep. He truly loved her. Even if she did make him call her name twice before she would respond.

"Hermione?" he said softly. No answer. She could be asleep.

"Hermione?" he asked again, still softly.

"Yes?" she signed.

"Nothing," he answered with a sly smile. She was so funny. She made him say her name twice. He held her tight, and they both went to sleep.


	15. 15 The Day Off

**All characters belong to JRK:**

**Chapter 15: The Day Off**

It was exactly one week until the 'Spring Fling'. Today was Saturday, April 7th. It was the day before Easter Sunday. The 'Spring Fling' was to be held at 6:00 pm at the Grand Marsh Hotel, on Saturday, April 14th. Hermione knew everything was completely ready for the event, so today she was determined to decompress. She was going to spend the whole day doing fun things, and things just for her. She called it her 'me day'. It was a beautiful spring day. Not too cold and there was actual sunshine, instead of the rain that had plagued London for the last week.

Hermione had her whole day mapped out. She was going to read, watch a couple of movies, get her summer clothes out of storage, clean her closet, and definitely do something outdoors. She had to enjoy this pretty day. Since tomorrow was Easter, she had planned on going to Ginny and Harry's for the day; it was the first Easter for baby James, never mind that he would never remember the day. She also had planned to put a wreath on her parents' graves tomorrow.

Hermione hadn't seen Draco since Wednesday. She gave him his first driving lesson that day, and it all went rather badly. She vowed right then and there that she would never give him another. While it might be true that she wasn't the world's best driver, she was an even worse driving teacher. Even she recognized that fact. She expected him to already know everything. When Muggle's are first taught to drive, they at least know the basics; turn signals, stop lights, etc. He knew nothing. They fought and argued and she ended up in tears, and he ended up leaving in a bad mood.

He sent her an owl on Thursday, begging her pardon, and could she please meet him on Friday, so they could shop for their outfits for the Gala.

She sent him an owl back, telling him that she would be happy to go shopping with him. Then she added a quick little post script to the bottom of the note. It said: _P.S. As long as you don't drive.  
_  
She meant it as a joke. Apparently, he wasn't amused.

He sent her another owl, saying that they could always apparate to the shop, if she had no problem letting him apparate by himself. And his post script said: _P.S. I know how much you love to be in control of everything._

She sent another owl, toot sweet, asking him why he even needed her to go shopping with him. He would probably pick out her outfit anyway, so no need for her to come.

His next owl said that she was right, no need for her to come. She had terrible taste and he was sure she expected him to pay for the gown anyway, since she was so poor. And again, that she had terrible taste.

Her poor owl Aries was very unhappy, because Hermione sent another owl to Draco. It said that she was so sorry to forgo the pleasure of his company, oh and while he was picking out her outfit, maybe he should go ahead and pick out something for Pansy Parkinson, but make sure it was a different colour, because it would be a shame if Draco ACCIDENTLY mistook Pansy for Hermione again.

Draco's next owl said that it would indeed be a shame if he mistook Pansy for Hermione again, but not to worry, that would never happen, because he was pretty sure that Hermione could not quite live up to Pansy, regarding a certain "oral fixation."

Hermione's next owl, which she swore would be her last, told him that she certainly hoped he hadn't severed all tie to Miss Parkinson, since he would never ever in his life get that type of service from Hermione.

His last owl, at least she had hoped it would be his last, said that he was so glad to clear that up, and now he would know what to expect, and what not to expect from her, and he wasn't holding his breath anyway. Then he wrote: "_While I'm out shopping for our robes, while don't you just relax. Read a book. I hear you have a million galleon copy of "__**Hogwarts, a History**__", which is a fascinating read. Oh, that's right, you sold it, you stupid bint. Love forever, Draco."_

Hermione couldn't let that be the last word. So, she coaxed her owl over, for one last trip and wrote on a piece of paper three little words. Three little words that Draco had come to expect from Hermione. "_YOU STUPID WANKER_!" Let him top that.

He did.

His last owl, and this time it truly was his last owl, read: _"Leave it to you, Granger, to be the bigger person, and not resort to name calling. I also know you'll be the bigger person, and not have to get in the last word. Wait, I'm confusing you with someone else. You are never the bigger person. So I await your reply, since I know you'll want to get in the last word. Malfoy."_

Damn him. He was right. She wanted to get in the last word, but for one thing, her owl looked like he was ready to bite her finger off at any moment, and two, she did strike the first low blow, bring up Pansy. Why did he have to bring up the comment about, "being the bigger person?" 'He's an idiot,' she thought. Damn Malfoy for knowing she always liked to get in the last word. She was going to prove him wrong for once.

That was another reason she had this pretty Saturday all to herself. She hadn't heard from Draco since their owls on Thursday, and the last time they spoke face to face was Wednesday when they had a fight about driving.

She left things so badly with Draco. She really did need to go shopping for her gown. The gala was just seven short days away. She would go shopping Monday. Today was her 'me day'. She ate breakfast, showered, and got dressed in her oldest, but most comfortable, jeans and a white t-shirt and a yellow pullover sweatshirt. The yellow sweatshirt made her think of Draco for some reason.

She decided to watch a movie. It was still early, only nine in the morning. She could watch a movie, and then proceed to some of the other 'fun' activities she had scheduled for her 'day off'. She opened her front drapes to let in the light. She put her movie in the player. It was a very old movie that had been one of her mother's favorites, and Hermione loved it as well. It was called, "The Black Narcissus". It was romantic, and sad, and exotic, and for some reason it reminded her of Draco. Was everything today going to remind her of him?

She was so engrossed in the movie, that she didn't even realize she had started to cry. She was feeling melancholy. Some of it was because of the movie - it was sad and it didn't have a happy ending. Some of it was because this movie reminder her of her mum, and some of it was because the main male character in the movie reminder her of Draco. The female character in the movie was torn between her vocation, and the man she loved. The male character was torn because the woman was beyond his grasp, and he knew he was in love with someone he could never obtain. Why did that remind her of them? That was the saddest thing of all.

Hermione did feel torn between her job and Draco at one time, but she didn't feel that way anymore. She wanted Draco. Her job be damned. And she didn't want Draco to feel like he could never obtain her. She felt that down deep he thought she was beyond his grasp, and that she might disappear in a blink of an eye. She didn't want him to always worry about whether or not she would be there for him. She wanted him to be secure in their love.

This movie always made her cry, anyway. The ending credits began to roll, and she stood up to remove the movie from the player. She had just put it in the box, when she heard a knock on her door. Please let it be Draco.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, and went to answer the door. When she pulled open the door, all she saw at first was a hand, holding a single yellow daisy. Then he came forward, having taken a step away from the bushes, where he had crouched down hiding, and said, "I'm sorry." She opened her door all the way, and rushed into his arms. He was flabbergasted, but in a good way. He hugged her tight.

She took a step back from him, and said, "Hi." He touched her cheek. He could tell she had been crying. He hoped she wasn't crying for him.

She then said, "I'm sorry, too." He handed her the flower.

"Have you been crying?" he asked. She went inside the house with him in tow, put her flower on the coffee table, and handed him the movie. He looked at the box, nodded his head in understanding, and said, "So, it's a sad one, huh?" She nodded her head 'yes'. "No happy ending?" he added.

"No, it's not a very happy ending, in that the man and the woman don't end up together at the end," she said.

"Does the woman die at the end?" he asked. She shook her head no.

"Does the man die at the end?" Again, she shook her head no.

"Does the woman sell a book that he bought her for a million galleons?" he quizzed as a joke.

She glared at him for a moment, then she said, "The man loves the woman, and she loves him, but she picks her career, in this case, being a nun, over him. Not all movies have a happy ending, you know. Just like real life."

"Well, we wouldn't know about that, would we, Granger, since we're expecting a very happy ending, as far as we're concerned," he surmised with a large smile. She hugged his left arm, and dragged him to the sofa.

"Did you get your dress robes?" she asked, sitting next to him on the couch. She put her feet under her, because they were cold.

He responded, "Yes, and I'll be simply the most dashing man at the whole Spring Fling, Granger. Have you gotten yours yet?"

"No, but I will soon," she confessed. She moved her feet in front of her, and put a pillow over them.

"Are your feet cold?" He laughed.

"Yes, they are," she simply stated.

"Go get some socks," he said matter of fact.

"I'm too lazy," she admitted with a smile. He took the pillow off her feet, and put her feet in this lap. He rubbed them. They were cold. She tried to sneak one up his shirt, and it was so cold it made him squeal like a little girl. He took the same foot and tickled it, and then he pulled on both her feet, and pulled her whole body closer to him. He straddled her body and started tickling her ribs. She laughed so hard, she cried.

"STOP!" she finally yelled, "I'm going to pee my pants!"

He stopped, but stayed on top of her. "That's not a nice picture," he said with a fake frown. He put a hand on each side of her face, and pushed her hair back. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Then he kissed her lips. He sat back up, and she licked her recently kissed lips. He leaned down and kissed her again. He sat back up, and he thought if he didn't get off her immediately, he would be forced to ravish her in her living room, so he sat back at the end of the couch, and she sat back up. He took her feet again, and put them in his hands. "When you get your gown, would you let me come with you?"

"I was expecting you to come," she admitted, then as an afterthought she added, "after all, who'll pay if you don't come?" He smiled at that.

"Go get some socks, Granger." He let go of her feet. Touching her, in any sense, just made him want her more. She kicked him, and he grabbed her foot again, and tickled her behind her knee. "Are you ticklish, here?" he said as he continued to tickle her.

"STOP!" she pleaded again. He let her go. She jumped off the couch and said, "I'll go get socks, for goodness sakes."

"Come back here," he said. She was flushed and breathing hard. He tugged on her hand, and pulled her to his lap. He put one of his hands on her cheek, and kissed her jaw line, down to her neck. She wanted to melt into him. He pulled her chin toward his face, and said, "Why do we fight so much, Granger. I hate fighting with you. I would rather make love to you." He kissed her again.

She slipped off his lap, and sat beside him again. "I think we fight so much because we're such passionate people, and our passion just overflows in every aspect of our lives," she answered, as if it was obvious.

"I hate it when we fight," he reiterated, "I kind of like it when we bicker back and forth, though. That can be fun. It's so easy to irritate you," he admitted, "But, I don't like fighting."

"Neither do I," she agreed. "Listen, let's make a deal, right here, right now, that we won't end another day being angry with each other. Let's make sure we always resolve all conflicts, and apologize to each other, before the sun sets."

"I'd like that," he agreed, "that way, we can always have lots of great make up sex." She laughed, and playfully punched his arm.

Draco asked, "So beautiful, what do you have planned today?"

"You mean on my 'me day'?" she asked back. "I planned on watching a movie, which I just did, read some, catch up on some housework, clean out my closet, maybe get my summer clothing out of…." and she trailed off. He had yawned, and was now feigning slumber. She didn't say another word.

"Oh, did you stop talking?" Draco asked, opening one eye, then the other. "I was listening. Seriously, it all sounded fascinating. I'm completely and utterly enthralled."

"What did you have planned on this pretty, spring day?" she asked, trying to sound bored.

"I was going to watch a movie with my girl, but she already watched it without me, then I was going to watch her read, and watch her clean her house, and watch her try on her summer clothes…" Now he was cut off by her.

"I wasn't going to try on my summer clothes. I was going to get them out of storage," she reminded him.

"In my plans, I was going to watch you try them on," he said.

"So, you just plan to watch me do all my tasks completely from the sidelines. Not join in?" she wondered.

Draco stood up, and looked at his nails, and said, "I wouldn't want to sully my hands. I just got a manicure." She stood up beside him. A manicure?

"You're a priss," she reprimanded.

"And your not," he joked, "Let's go buy your dress."

She smiled and walked toward the kitchen. "I was joking before, but you really are a priss."

He followed her, and tried to pinch her bum. She hit him on the top of his head with a wooden spoon that was on her counter.

"Come on, let's get out of this house and do something exciting," he whined.

"I have plans," she tried to explain.

"Yes, boring plans," he said, grabbing her around her waist. "The only reason to stay in the house on a beautiful day like this is to have sex. You pick. Outside, we'll have sun and fresh air. Inside, we'll have lots of hot passionate sex. You pick."

"I want to spend the day at home, but doing the things I want to do." She backed away from him. He took a step closer, and trapped her between his body and the sink.

He leaned into her, and put his face next to her neck. He smelled her hair. He flicked his tongue on her neck, and then he bit her ear. He said, in barely a whisper, "Do you want your solitude, or may I stay?" He took a deep breath, and let his hands move from her shoulders, down both arms, and to rest on her hips. He moved his thigh between her legs, and pressed his hard body next to hers. She felt trapped, but in a good way. She put her hands around his neck, and pressed her body closer to his. He could feel her breasts against his chest. She could feel his want against her lower abdomen.

She kissed his neck, then his jaw, and then whispered in his ear, "You may stay, but we still aren't having sex." Then she reached behind her, turned the faucet on fast, grabbed the sink hose, and sprayed him. She sprayed him! He put his hands up to block the water.

"Damn, Granger!" he yelled.

"I thought you needed a cold shower," she explained while she laughed. She dropped the sprayer, and ran out of the room. He wasn't even going to chase her. He was too dignified. He used his wand and dried off. He sat at the table for a moment, and then decided to walk up the stairs to see where she went.

She was sitting on her bed, putting on socks.

"Do you really want me to stay, or do you really want your solitude?" he queried. He sat next to her.

"Yes, I want you to stay, and I don't think you know the meaning of the word solitude anyway, but I really do want to just have a lazy day. I don't want to go shopping, and at the moment, I don't want to have sex. Okay?" she asked back.

He fell back on her bed, and scooted himself up toward the headboard. He piled her pillows together and leaned against them, sitting up. He took his wand and accio the flower he brought her up the stairs. "Come here," he said, and to his surprise, she obeyed without arguing. She sat next to him, and he put the yellow daisy behind her ear. "There," he said simply.

She stood up and said, "Are you going to help me with all my activities today, or are you going to stay on my bed and watch?"

"Is there any possibility that if I stay on the bed, we'll have sex?" He was grasping at straws.

"You are incorrigible," she said. "Hey, I have an idea. Stay there." She walked over to her bookshelf.

"Please…don't read to me!" he whined and put his hands over his ears.

She ignored him, and came back over to the bed holding a Muggle picture album. She sat back by him, and extended her legs out next to his. She put her back against her headboard. "Would you like to see pictures of me when I was a child?" she asked timidly.

He laughed, and at first her feelings were hurt. He saw her face fall, so he was quick to add, "I only laughed because that was a silly thing to ask. Of course I want to see." He really did.

They started looking at pictures from when Hermione was a baby. She was a very pretty baby, and she had a lot of curls even back then. There were pictures of her at birthday parties, and Christmases, and school events. There were pictures of her mum and dad and her all together. There were pictures of her family on holiday; at the beach, skiing, camping. Draco was totally taken aback by what a wonderful childhood she must have had. She was really loved growing up, and she knew it. When they finished with that album, he asked, "Do you have another?"

She smiled and jumped off the bed. She returned with another album. This one had Muggle pictures, as well as Wizard pictures. There were pictures of her from Hogwarts and pictures of her right after the war. She excused herself to go to the bathroom. He continued to look at the second album. There was a picture of her, Potter, and Weasley that looked as if it was taken around 5th or 6th year. He removed the picture from the sleeve, and tore the picture in half. He put the half with Scarboy and Weasel back in the album, and the half with her, he put in his pocket. He closed the album and put it back on her shelf. He looked quickly to see if she was returning. She wasn't. He took the picture back out of his pocket, and examined the image.

This was the Hermione he hated when he was young. This was the Hermione he tormented in school. This was the Hermione that had to tolerate being called Mudblood and worse. This was the Hermione that was tortured by an unforgivable curse by his aunt, in his presence, in his home. This was the Hermione that had to endure a year of suffering, to help Potter defeat Voldemort. This was the Hermione that he needed to understand how very sorry he was for all that he did, and all that he was. He put the picture back in his pocket, and a second later, she came back in the room.

He picked up a picture in a frame that was on the shelf of her, her mum, and her dad. She stood over his shoulder as he held the picture. "That was taken the night of my parent's 35th anniversary. It was taken on March 17th, and four days later, on March 21st, my mum died." He turned to look at her. She took the picture from his hand, and put it back on the shelf.

He sat on the edge of her bed and hung his head. In a small voice he said, "I don't know what I would do if I lost you." Her mum and dad looked so happy in that picture, as if they were really in love. He really loved Hermione. He suddenly felt incredible sorrow. He felt sorry for her dad, and the fact that he had to try to continue on without her mum, knowing that he himself would not be able to do as much, if he lost Hermione. It would be like he lost half of himself.

She sat beside him, and touched his hand. He squeezed her hand tight. She could tell he was in a somber mood all of the sudden and she didn't know why. She decided to lighten the mood. "Here are the choices for what we can do next; we can go downstairs and eat lunch, we can pack a lunch and go to the park, or we can bring lunch up here and eat in bed after we make mad, passionate love."

He turned to her, and laughed a small laugh, and said, "Well, now you're just being cruel. Don't promise things you won't deliver." He stood up, grabbed her hand again, and said, "This may surprise you my dear Granger, but I pick option two. Let's pack a lunch and go to the park."


	16. 16 The Shower

**All characters belong to JRK:**

**Chapter 16: The Shower****:**

The duo walked to a park near Hermione's house. With the pretty weather came the inevitable throng of people, all with the same idea as Draco and Hermione. Everyone wanted to enjoy the pretty day outside. The park was filled with waves of people; husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, parents and children. There were lovers and those just falling in love. The sea of people could not impose on two specific lovers, however. As they sat down under a tree to eat their modest lunch, they were ignorant to anyone but each other.

After their feast, Hermione made her way to an empty swing. Draco was shocked when she sat down and started swinging back and forth. He came up to the swing, to face her. "Aren't you concerned that you might be taking the only empty swing from some poor little five year old child?" he asked sarcastically.

"There are other empty swings," she said, looking around.

"Get off, Granger," he demanded. This just made her more determined. She continued to swing higher and higher. It looked as if she might take flight at any moment. He had to take several steps back, just so he could continue to watch her. Her reckless abandonment enthralled him. He envied her childlike innocence sometimes. After everything she had been through, the fact that she could still find joy on a swing in a park on a sunny spring day just amazed him. He knew she was genuine. It wasn't an act, or a façade. She showed joy when she felt joy, anger when she felt anger, love when she felt love. That was just her.

Hermione watched Draco watching her swing. He sat down on an empty bench. As she flew forward and the backwards, up and then back, she thought her heart might beat right out of her chest. The adrenalin was pumping through her veins, right along with her blood. She felt happy. The reason for her elation had nothing to do with her swinging, and everything to do with the man watching her swing.

Her hair flew all around her, and she had the biggest smile on her face. He stood up, and came to stand before her again. His heart was close to bursting, from love, and then sudden guilt that he could not seem to shake. "That's enough now," he said, also smiling.

"Do you want me to jump?" she asked. She hoped he would say no. She didn't want to jump, but she would if he told her yes. He didn't answer, he just continued to stare. She thought he still seemed sad for some reason. Was it something she had done?

"Draco!" she yelled to get his attention, "do you want me to jump?" she asked again, swinging higher still.

"Jump if you want," he shouted back, now standing far enough away so that she wouldn't hit him.

"If I jump, will you catch me?" she called out, still swinging.

"No, I'd let you fall on your arse!" he shouted, cupping his hands so his voice would carry.

"Malfoy! There are children here," she chastised him.

"Sorry, kiddies," Malfoy said to a couple of small children nearby, "I wouldn't really let her fall on her arse."

"Malfoy! I meant, watch your language," she said pointedly. By this time her swing was slowing down. He walked up to her, grabbed the chain, and brought the swing to a shaky, unsteady, halt.

She continued to sit on the swing, kicking her feet on the dirt below. He sat on a swing beside her. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Hermione asked him directly.

He merely frowned and looked at his feet.

She stood from her swing, and sat on his lap on his swing. It was a tight fit. She held the chains with both hands, placing them directly over his. He started to walk the swing slowly back and forth.

"Please tell me, Draco," Hermione begged.

"Leave it alone," Draco said, bringing the swing to a sudden stop. "There's nothing wrong." He nudged her gently from his lap, and they both stood. He took her hand and they walked over to the same bench he was earlier and they sat down together.

They sat in silence for many minutes. Out of the blue, he asked, "How can you love me?"

She looked at him and cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"How can you love me?" he repeated. "After all I did to you in school, and after all that happened during the war and everything with my family, I don't know how you could even like me, let alone love me." He turned to look at her and she was frowning.

She took his hand, and rubbed the top with her fingertips. She brought the same hand to her lips and put a gentle kiss on top. "You're not that boy anymore," she said, "You're right, I didn't like that boy. I would never have fallen in love with him. You're a man now, a man with a change of heart, remember?"

She stood up and took his chin, to make him look up at her. "Remember when I told you that my father couldn't believe you were the same Draco Malfoy from school that I used to complain about? I told him that you had changed. I didn't lie to my father. You have changed, down deep in your heart, your soul, and even your mind." She touched his chest and then his face to emphasis what she had said. "No, I would never have loved the Draco Malfoy whom I went to school with, but the Draco Malfoy who sits before me now, well, I have to admit, I love him very, very much."

He stood and started walking, still holding her hand. "I guess I sometimes question your sanity, Granger," he said, trying to make light.

"Hey, enough of this sullen mood lets go do something fun!" she exclaimed. "Let's go make some good memories that you can tell your grandchildren about someday." She was referring to what he told her that night at the wedding reception. "You can put them on your knee, well, maybe not your knee, since that might wrinkle your fine Italian wool trousers, but maybe put them on your butler's knee, and tell them about how you once had a completely fun day of total unbridled bliss, with a girl that had a funny name, and that it was the best day of your whole life."

He smiled and said, "And they'll say, 'what was that girl's funny name again, grandfather?' and I'll say, I think it was Hermione."

Hermione said, "And then one of them, the one that takes the most after you, will say, 'that's a better name then Draco,' because that grandchild will have a quick wit about him."

"They'll probably ask me if all of this happened before I met their grandmother. What shall I say?" he prompted.

Hermione told him, "You'll say, yes, way before I met your grandmother."

"Hell, Granger, who are we kidding," he said with a smile, "my grandchildren will be extremely smart and good looking, which is beside the point, but they'll be very smart, so they'll ask, 'how did you and this lady meet?', and I'll say, she was a Muggle-born, and I met her in school, and we hated each other with a passion. But later, we became friends."

"Friends?" she asked.

"Well, they're children, Granger, I can very well tell them that we hated each other with a passion, but then that passion turned to love. They would never understand." He kissed her hand, and then started swinging her arm back and forth as they walked.

She was making a funny face, and so he said, "Let me continue with my story. I'll say, we became friends, and eventually lovers, and that she only loved me for my money."

"And your looks," she reminded.

"And my looks," he added also, "that's a given. Then I'll ask them, 'would you like to know the story of how I met your grandmother?' and they'll say that they do want to hear that story."

"You already know that story, do you?" she questioned.

Draco said, "But of course. I'll say that we were at an auction, and I was bidding against her best friend for a book, and that I ended up paying a big chunk of their inheritance on said book, which she later practically gave away for nothing, and that she lost her shoe, and I returned it to her, just like in Cinderella, and that at midnight she turned into a pumpkin and I baked her in a pie." Draco laughed at himself.

Hermione said, "You can't tell children you baked her in a pie," and she hit his arm.

"Okay," he remarked, "I'll say at midnight I kissed her lips and I told her she would be mine forever, and the rest, as they say, is history."

Hermione stopped, and put her hands on his chest. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and put one up to her hair, to keep it from blowing in her face. Hermione said, "It sounds to me like you're referring to the same person in your story. So, why not be truthful to them, and tell them the person whom you went to school with, and who became your friend and then lover, is also the person you met at the auction. Tell them it's their grandmother from the beginning."

"I'm surprised at you, Hermione," Draco said with mocked scorn, "you want our grandchildren to think of you as some little hussy who would sleep with a man before their first date. Shocking." He hugged her and she struggled from his grasp.

She ran away from him saying, "At least when I say that I once dated the world's biggest prat, they'll automatically know that I'm talking about their grandfather." She continued to run and he chased her.

He caught her and tackled her to the ground. He put his body over hers, with his arms on each side of her shoulders, his arms straight, holding his body far from hers. "Aren't you at least happy that this time you factor into my story about my grandchildren?" he asked her. She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand.

The wind was blowing his hair across his face. The sun was bright, and she was suddenly warm. He rolled off her and sat beside her. He said, "Be careful when you sit up, we're on a rather large incline. You might roll down the hill."

Hermione sat up, grinned, and asked, "Have you ever rolled down a hill, with no inhibitions, gaining speed with the centrifugal force, and feeling total freedom, and not self-conscious of what anyone thought? Just rolling and rolling and only stopping when the laws of physics finally force you to stop?"

"What?" he asked confused.

"Let's roll down the hill, Draco! It'll be joyous!" she rejoiced.

"I'll ruin my fine Italian trousers," he said.

"BYE!" she said, and she tucked her arms up against her chest and with her body straight as a board, she lay down and started rolling down the hill. She screamed the whole way down. He watched her until her force landing at the bottom of the hill. She landed like a rag doll. Her legs and arms were spread out, and she was on her back, staring up at the sky. He could see her smile all the way up the hill.

"IF I RUIN MY TROUSERS YOU'LL BE SORRY!" he yelled, and then he followed her lead. She looked up and he was heading straight for her. She moved slightly out of the way. He rolled down the hill, and landed slightly farther than she did. He was on his back, breathing hard. He had a minimal amount of fun, but it wasn't as great as she made it out to be. She came crawling up to him, laughing for all she was worth. He wasn't moving. She hoped he wasn't dead. He was out of breath, but at least he was breathing, and he managed to say, "You better be laughing with me, not at me."

"You're not laughing," was her answer. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Are you hurt?" she asked, as he sat up beside her.

"Only my pride," he said, "oh, and my trousers. Grass stains, Granger. I've never had grass stains in my life."

"I'm sure there are a lot of things you've done since we've been dating that you've never done before."

"Too true." He stood and helped her to stand. They walked back up the hill, and he ticked off items on his fingers as he walked. "I've ridden in a car, I've eaten fast food, I've been used as a human tissue, I've rolled down a hill, and I paid a million galleons for a book."

"STOP IT!" she said, irritated. He didn't know what he did, so he came to a sudden stop and looked at her like she had gone crazy.

"What did I do?" he sincerely asked.

"Stop mentioning the damn book. I feel awful about it as it is. Please, stop bringing it up every other moment." She stalked off. He ran to catch up with her.

"Now that I know it really upsets you, I'll try hard not to mention the book again," he promised. They started walking back to her house. He kept bringing his hand up to his hair. He felt something there.

"Granger, what's in my hair?" he asked. They stopped walking and he bent down for her to take a look.

She put her hand in his hair and said, "It looks like mud."

"MUD?" he asked loudly. He suddenly disapparated from her sight. She looked around to make sure none of the Muggles in the park noticed anything amiss. She ran home, hoping that was where he had gone.

She walked in the front door and yelled, "Draco, are you here?"

"I'm getting in the shower," he yelled from the bathroom, "I have to get this mud out of my hair."

He was such a priss.

She walked up the stairs, and tentatively opened the bathroom door. He was already in the shower. He opened the shower curtain and said, "Do you care to join me?"

"No, I'll take your clothes and try to get the stains out of them," she said.

"Come here," he commanded.

"Nothing good ever happens when you say 'come here'," she joked.

He suddenly took the showerhead down from its holder and pointed it at her and sprayed her with water. "Payback is a bitch, Granger," he said, closing the shower curtain and laughing louder than she had heard him laugh before.

She stood in the middle of her bathroom, dripping wet. He was whistling now. "I hate people who whistle," she said, more to herself than to him. She started to remove her clothing. He peeked out of the shower. He wondered what she was doing.

"Are you really going to join me?" he asked, watching her.

She continued to remove her clothing. She had never showered with a man before. There was a first time for everything. She had already removed her shoes and socks. While he was watching she removed the yellow, grass stained, sweatshirt. Then she unbuttoned her jeans, and pulled them down her hips. He felt incredibly aroused. She wasn't even looking at him. She wasn't trying to be overtly sexual. She was just removing her clothing. She pulled off the white t-shirt, and then removed her bra. She finally turned to see Draco watching her. She removed her knickers, and stood before him in all her glory.

"Granger?" he asked.

She pushed aside the curtain, and he had to take a step back. His mouth was actually open in awe and shock. She immediately took a sponge and put soap on it, and started washing her body. He stood there and continued to watch. She washed her neck, arms, and chest. She put the sponge around one breast and then around the other. She squeezed the soap over her chest and let the suds drift down her chest, to her abdomen, and below.

She washed down one leg and up the other. She put the sponge down, and stood under the stream of water. She faced Draco, but stood under the water with her eyes closed. She started running her hands up and down her body, to rinse off the suds.

Draco said, "You're killing me, Granger. Did you know that? I am literally dying over here." She finished washing her body and smiled at him. He took that as an invitation. He walked up to her freshly showered body and started to lavish kisses all over her face. His hands reached behind her, and pulled one of her legs so that it hooked over his hip. Her shower was not made for sex. He couldn't find anyplace to use for leverage. He lifted her up, the best he could, for she was wet and slippery. She tried to put both legs around his waist, but she kept slipping down. He finally lifted her by her bum, figuring there was no time or room for foreplay. They started making love, and he felt his feet slipping. He didn't know how long he could hold her up in the wet, slippery shower.

Hermione tried to pull herself up by holding onto the bar that held the shower curtain. That was a mistake. The bar came crashing down, and Draco and Hermione both fell right out of the shower. Draco landed on his back, and Hermione landed on Draco. Needless to say, neither had been fulfilled.

Draco actually screamed in pain. Hermione was in pain as well. She managed to get off him, and he was lying on her bathroom floor, water all around, shower curtain underneath, and he still had an erection. But, she didn't laugh. She could see that he was in true pain.

"Draco, what did you hurt?" she cried out.

He just cried.

Harry, Ron and Ginny arrived at St. Mungos two hours later. Hermione had called them and said there had been an accident, and that she had to take Draco to the hospital. They went directly to his floor, and waited outside his room.

Meanwhile, in Draco's room, the Medi-witch told Hermione that Draco had fractured his hip and his pelvic bone. He would have to stay in hospital for at least two days, to re-grow and mend his broken bones.

When the healer left, Harry, Ginny and Ron walked in the room. "What happened?" Ron asked.

Draco pointed at Hermione and said, "Ask her, it's all her fault. She did this to me."

Hermione said, "Get some rest, Draco, and I'll come back tonight," and she ushered her friends out of the room.

"What did happen?" Harry asked, curious as could be.

"He broke his hip and his pelvis," Hermione answered, knowing that wasn't really the question Harry was asking.

"What, is he 90 years old or something?" Ron asked as he laughed.

Hermione slapped Ron's shoulder, as Ginny asked what they all wanted to know, "How did he do that?" After all, Draco had told them it was Hermione's fault.

Hermione thought, 'they don't need to know the full story,' so she said, "He fell in the shower."

"Merlin, he is 90 years old!" Ron laughed more. Harry couldn't contain his snicker. This time, Hermione hit Harry, who turned and hit Ron.

"Whose shower was he in?" Ginny asked calmly.

Hermione couldn't believe she would ask that. All three of her friends were now staring at her intently. "Why does that matter?" Hermione asked back.

"Well, did he fall at home, and lay there for hours before someone found him, or were you already at his house, of did he fall in your shower?" Ginny explained.

Harry all of the sudden whipped around and stared at Hermione. He asked, "Was he in your shower?" He tried to hide his smile.

"Yes," she answered slowly.

"Alone?" Ron asked irritated.

"Does that matter?" Hermione stormed away from her friends, and as she retreated, she could hear their laughter continue.

Harry left Ron and Ginny by Draco's room and followed Hermione down the hall. "Sorry, Hermione," Harry told her.

"Draco and I were having sex in the shower and we fell out of the shower and he broke his hip and pelvic bone. Are you all happy now?" She was close to tears. She was so embarrassed.

"I'm ecstatic," Harry joked. "Actually, the picture is seared into my memory now. I might finally have a new nightmare to replace my old Voldemort nightmares."

Hermione couldn't help but smile, as Harry gave her a small hug.

Her three friends left without seeing Draco again. None of them thought they could face him without making a joke. Hermione walked back into his room, and he appeared to be sleeping. She sat in a chair by his bed, and stared at the wall.

He turned to look at him. He was only pretending to be asleep, in case it was her stupid friends coming in to see him. She saw he was awake. She merely sat there and stared at him. She didn't know what to say. She felt it was her fault, and so did he, apparently.

"Granger, don't beat yourself up over this. I don't really think it's your fault. You can't help it if I'm so damn sexy and you tried to rape me while I was innocently trying to take a shower."

She smiled and said, "How poignant you are, but yet, not very persuasive. You know, if you had just let me stick to my original plan of spending a nice, relaxing, lazy day at home, none of this would have happened. We wouldn't have rolled down the hill, you wouldn't have gotten mud in your hair, and you wouldn't have taken a shower, and gotten me all wet, and forced me to try to rape you in the shower. We both share equal blame."

"Okay," he said, "I'll share the blame, but you have to admit that you had more fun today actually out there living your life, instead of reading about someone else's life, or watching some form of pretend life in a movie. We need to live each day as if it's our last, and not watch it go by slowly."

"Is that the life lesson we've learned from this experience?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

Draco said, "That, and the fact that they next time we have sex in the shower, we should do so in mine. It has much more room."


	17. 17 The Suite

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 17: The Suite:**

The next two days Hermione felt as if she was more of a casual observer in her own life, instead of a willing participant. She had many last minutes details to see about the gala, more than she thought she would, she had yet to get her dress, and it was already Tuesday. The gala was on Saturday.

It didn't help matters that Draco had been in St. Mungos since last Saturday. She wanted his help to pick out a gown. She went shopping with Ginny on Monday evening, but didn't feel inclined to buy anything. Nothing seemed right. She wanted to look perfect. It was a special night, in more ways than one. She just didn't feel motivated without Draco.

As soon as Hermione went into the office that morning, she received an urgent owl from the manager of the hotel where they were to hold the 'Spring Fling'. It said that she must meet him there promptly at noon, and he would explain everything. Evasive little bugger. If she had been told what the problem was, perhaps she could send one of her assistants. At a quarter till noon, Hermione couldn't stand the anticipation any longer and she apparated to the hotel.

She went up to the front desk, and told them she had a meeting with the manager, Jeff. While she waited, she looked around the lobby. She sat down in one of the comfy armchairs, which seemed so inviting, and shut her eyes for just a second. Before she knew it, someone was shaking her arm. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione woke up with a start. She looked at the big clock over the fireplace. Good, she had only been sleeping for ten minutes. She looked up finally and saw Jeff. He was the one shaking her arm. She stood up. "I'm so sorry. I haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately. Why was it that you needed to see me?"

"Come with me, and I will show you," he stated. He offered his arm, which she placed her hand on gingerly, and they walked toward the grand ballroom. He opened the double doors, and Hermione could barely contain her delight. They place was already decorated for the gala. It was more beautiful than she had imagined. There were so many flowers that the place looked like a botanical garden. There was a fountain in the middle of the room, which had coloured water spraying from all the jets. There were already balloons of all colours floating around the ceiling, with the help of magic, no doubt. There were perhaps thousands of fairy lights on the ceiling. Along the back wall was a decorated table, where the items to be raffled off would be placed. The bandstand area was equally impressive. On the other side of the room was the photo booth, and different carnival type booths and games.

There was a large table along the side for the food buffet and smaller, round tables, decorated with bright spring colours, yellow, green, fuchsia, and bright blue, for the guests to sit. On the patio were all sorts of games and little attractions. Everything looked great. What's the problem? She heard a voice behind her say, "Do you like what you see?" She spun around, with a smile on her face, and there was Draco, in all his glory, beaming back at her. She rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck. "Careful, Granger, I just got out of hospital two hours ago."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Oh, I have a surprise for you, and it's not here in the ballroom. I asked the manager to call you. I hope I didn't cause you too much distress. I know how you can worry," he told her. "He already showed me the ballroom. It looks great. This is going to be an incredible success. Perhaps the best spring gala we've ever had, and it's all thanks to you." He hugged her tight. He really was proud of her. She planned this whole thing from the get go, and it was bound to bring in a lot of money.

He took her hand, and led her out of the ballroom. He started toward the lifts. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Well, when someone tells someone else they have a surprise for them, usually that means it's a surprise. So, wait for it, Hermione," he stated with a laugh.

He escorted her to the lifts, and they entered together. "Where did you say we were going again?" she asked.

"I didn't. Do you think I'm an idiot? You just asked me that five seconds ago, and I didn't tell you then, so why would I tell you now?" He pushed the button in the lift that would take them to the top floor. They got out of the elevator and he led her to a set of double doors. He opened the doors and he escorted her into the hotel suite, which seemed to take up the entire top floor of the hotel. It had a panoramic view, overlooking the ocean. It had a large living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. It had two bedrooms, and two large private baths. She went out to the private balcony, which seemed to be suspended in mid air. She took a deep breath, breathing in the clean, fresh, salt air of the sea. She came back inside, and he was sitting on one of the couches, with his arms spread out on the back, and his feet up on the coffee table in front.

"Whose suite is this?" Hermione asked him, as she sat down on the coffee table, directly opposite him.

"Ours," he said plain as day. "I reserved it last time we were here. I thought it would be a nice surprise. You can get ready for the gala up here, and we can spend our night of passion here as well, after our first official date that is." He leaned forward on the couch as he spoke, and without warning, Hermione jumped from the coffee table and leaped into his arms.

"Careful, Granger, I just got out of hospital!" he cried, hugging her back. She sat beside him and squeezed his hands.

"This is so sweet!" she revealed.

"Wait a minute, Granger," he said, pushing her away from him in mocked annoyance, "I'm a lot of things, but sweet is not one of them. I have a reputation to uphold, and I have completely ulterior motives."

"Yes, sex, sex, sex," she stood up and sang. "It's still sweet of you. But, I won't tell anyone. To everyone else, you can still be the cold-blooded snake that they've all come to hate."

"Hiss, hiss," he said, as he stood and kissed her neck.

She reached around him and squeezed his bum playfully.

"Granger, don't be so presumptuous. You must wait for the night of the gala. As you promised, we'll have sex after our first official date, which is fast approaching. In fact, it is 102 hours away. Gee, when I put it like that, I'm not sure even I can wait that long." He took her hand and started to lead her to one of the bedrooms, but she put up a good fight.

"You can wait!" she said, removing herself from his clutches.

Draco said, "I want you to know, this is the longest I've ever gone without sex. We haven't had sex since that night at my house. In fact, this is the least amount of sex at the longest interval, I've ever experienced in my entire adult life. The auction was six weeks ago, and since that time, I've had sex only with you, and only twice. I'm afraid I might forget how. My poor penis is wilting in shame."

She laughed out loud and said, "Well, tell the little guy it won't be long, and, we've had sex three times."

"Granger," Draco explained, "for the record, and as you can already attest, my penis is not 'a little guy' so show him some respect. Also, we've had sex twice, for I recall each incident with incredible accuracy. We had sex right here in this hotel first, and then we had sex at my house the night of Weasley's birthday party." He came up and nuzzled her neck.

"What about at my house? In the shower; we had sex then," she asked, really believing in what she was saying.

"I was left unfulfilled and injured, so I don't count that incident, and I'll kindly ask you to refrain from mentioning it again, as it brings up terrible flashbacks. I've had night terrors since the damn thing, and I may in fact have to take baths instead of showers from now on," he joked.

"Harry said he'll have nightmares about it as well," Hermione joked back.

Draco frowned and said, "How does Potter know about what I am now classifying as the most embarrassing moment in Draco Malfoy's history?"

She just shrugged and then she kissed his mouth. She kissed him with love and passion. She pulled back and looked at his eyes, which were bright and promising. He leaned closer to her, and they kissed again. Their tongues mingled and met, and their hands became reacquainted. He put his hand on the small of her back, and lifted her blouse, so it rested on bare skin. He put his bottom two fingers under the waistband of her skirt. She pulled at his shirt, pulled it out of his trousers, and put both her hands on his stomach. He grimaced, but in a good way.

He brought his hands up and had started to unbutton her blouse, when there was a knock on the door of the suite.

"Damn it all to bloody hell!" Draco gasped.

Hermione smiled, straightened her shirt, and went and answered the door. It was Jeff, the hotel manager.

"Hello, Hermione, Mr. Malfoy," Jeff said as he entered, "I hope you like your suite."

"Oh, very much," Hermione said.

"I hope the ballroom was up to your expectations as well. My staff and I are looking forward to the gala," Jeff said.

"Yes, everything looked wonderful," she confirmed. "My staff and I look forward to working with you as well. Really, Jeff, everything looks wonderful."

"Well, I'll leave you two, and I'll see you Friday." He turned around and left.

Draco walked up and slammed the door shut. "Did the bastard just come up to stop me from making love to you or what? That was a completely pointless visit!"

"Not completely," Hermione turned to Draco, "I found it enlightening. Why did he say he would see me Friday? The gala isn't until Saturday."

"Well, I thought you might want to come Friday night, relax, then get up early and take care of all the last minute little details that don't even need taken care of, but which I'm sure you'll worry yourself to death over, and then Saturday night we'll come up here after the gala, make love until we're crippled and blind, spend the night, and leave Sunday."

"You reserved this suite for three days?" Hermione questioned.

"Well, no," he said, "I reserved it until Monday, just in case we need to stay an extra day. After all, we might not be able to leave on Sunday. We might still be recovering."

"Recovering?" she inquired.

"Yes, I fully intend to make you question your ability to walk straight after the night of mad passionate glorious sex we're going to have. I'm not even sure you'll have the stamina to keep up with me," he gloated.

"Oh, just wait and see, Malfoy, wait and see. After all, I'm not the one who broke their hip and pelvis," she said, pointing at him. "But you do realize you're building yourself up quite a bit. I hope you live up to your reputation," Hermione added.

He walked over to her and grabbed her hips. "Do you want a preview?" he leered.

"Maybe, just to know what I should expect," she prompted.

"You're such a tart," he teased, pulling her closer.

"I told you, no one says words like 'tart' anymore," she said, pushing away from him. He tried to grab her arm, but she made her escape.

"How much do you trust me, Hermione?" he said, sweetly.

"In what aspect?" she asked.

"Trust is trust. You either trust me, or you don't," he stated, walking around the couch to be near her. She walked to the other side of the couch.

"If the trust is the type where I would trust you with my life, I would say I trust you a lot. If the trust is where I would have to trust you to behave your little horny self, and on matters of the flesh, I would say I don't trust you at all. Trust is a fine line. There are shades of grey in everything," she concluded. They continued slowly circling the couch. Like a predator and his prey.

"Where are you going, Hermione, my love?" he said with a smirk.

"Where are you going, Draco, my sweet?" she asked.

"I'm coming after you," he answered, seductively.

"And I'm running away from you," she said with a smile on her face.

They continued slowly walking around the couch. He removed his tie and started to unbutton his shirt.

"Are you warm, sweetheart?" Hermione asked with false affection.

"No, just becoming more comfortable, my precious love," he said, with a warning.

They both stopped at the same time. They were standing at opposite ends of the couch. "You know, Granger," he said, "I decided that night at the auction that you would be mine, and mine you are. There's no use trying to get away from me now. I will never let you go." He suddenly seemed quite serious.

"You know, Malfoy," she mirrored him, "Maybe I decided that night that I wanted you as well, and like you, I always get what I want."

She was driving him slowly insane. "What do you want?" he asked, with his usual smirk, while still circling the couch. He had yet to remove his eyes from hers.

"I want what you want," she promised, with her own smirk.

"I think you're all talk," he jeered.

"You have no idea," she preened.

"I've had enough of this foreplay, come here right now, so I can show you how much I want you." Draco stopped moving. So did Hermione.

"You can't tell me what to do. I do what I please, when I please, and you should know that by now." She suddenly seemed serious as well.

"Hermione, don't make me say it again. I want you to come here," he demanded, smiling again, to lighten the mood, for the mood had suddenly grown dark indeed. It could be the unresolved passion in the room, or it could be something more sinister. It could be that they were both truly caught up in the moment of the chase.

"I don't think I will. I think you should come to me," she decided. Everything was a battle between the two.

"Come here," he commanded again.

"I told you before; nothing good comes when you ask that of me," she said. She started to circle the couch again. He actually climbed on the couch, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her over the couch. She let out a yelp of surprise. He pinned her to the couch, with her underneath. He kissed her neck, put his hand up to her blouse, and started to unbutton the buttons.

"Saturday won't be as special if we have sex here on this couch," she complained.

"Are you frigid or something?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Of course not!" She crawled out from under him, and sat on the end of the couch. He sat up beside her.

She seemed angry at that comment. He put his right index finger on her leg, and drew little circles on her knee. She pushed his hand away.

He took the same index finger and started to push her skirt up. She pushed it away again.

He took his whole hand, put it on her left knee, and held on tight. She tried to remove it, with both hands, but couldn't. She turned and looked at him, and he was smiling. Prat.

He turned slightly. His first hand was now hiking her skirt up. She was biting her bottom lip, eyes closed, legs slightly opened. He turned so he was almost facing her, and she moved so she was more accommodating.

He had unbuttoned four buttons of her shirt, and had his first hand completely under the blouse, cupping her right breast. He pushed aside the material, put his head down, and kissed her through the material of the shirt. His other hand was completely under her skirt. He wasn't moving that hand. It was just there. She did that little hum that he liked. She was killing him again. He leaned forward, to kiss her lips, which were red and swollen. Just then, there was another knock on the damn door.

"AARRGG!" Draco actually screamed. He sat away from Hermione, and yelled at the top of his lungs, "GO THE FUCK AWAY!" Hermione scrambled to her feet, and ran to the bathroom. She might need a minute.

He adjusted his trousers slightly, to hide his growing erection, and answered the door. He let the offensive person in the suite. He had forgotten she was coming. He went to the bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Hermione, may I come in?" he asked.

She opened the door. "Who the hell was it?" She seemed as agitated at the interruption as he was.

He walked in the bathroom, slammed the door shut, and said, "It's someone who can wait a moment." He pulled her up against him, and started kissing her. He ripped her blouse down the front, and bent his head to kiss her chest. He pulled her bra down, got down on his knees in front of her, and lavished long licks up and down her bare chest and stomach. He grabbed her waist, unzipped her skirt from the side zipper, and pulled it down. She didn't wear any stockings, for which he was happy. He pulled down her knickers in one swift movement, so that she was standing there, up against the vanity, totally nude except for her shoes. What he did next caused her to cry out. She was sure whoever was in the living room must have heard.

She could barely stand. She was breathing short little breaths, almost as if she was hyperventilating. He continued his ministration, until she started shaking. The shaking started at her core, and continued to her stomach, and up to every fiber of her body. He stood up quickly, unzipped his trousers and still fully clothed, he lifted her up. This time there was no water or slippery tiles. He could hold her up just fine. He got a very determined look on his face, and when they were finished (together) he placed her on the sink vanity, and almost collapsed against her.

He held her for a moment, and then said, "Now we can say we've made love three times."

They kissed long and hard. He could go at it again, but remembered the person waiting for them in the other room. "Oh yeah, there's someone waiting for you in the other room."

Hermione spoke, "I can't go out there! Look what you did to my shirt. How can I get dressed?"

"It won't matter. Just put on your bra and knickers," he said.

"I can't go around parading in just my underwear!" she said as she tried to find her undergarments.

"Again, I have to ask, do you trust me?" he asked, taking his wand, cleaning them both up, and then zipping his trousers.

"NO! After that episode, I don't trust you at all," she hissed quietly.

"Listen," he said, as she was putting on her skirt, "like I said earlier, trust is trust. If you trust me with your life, as you claim, you need to trust me on everything. Did you buy yourself a gown for the gala yet?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked him.

"It's really just a yes or no type of question, Granger," he said aggravated.

"No," she said with spite.

"I thought not," he gloated, "Out in the other room is a lady from the boutique right here at the hotel. She brought you many different gowns to try on. I'll even help you pick one, if you'd like, although I would rather it be a surprise."

Suddenly, her frown melted away, and she ran up to him, wrapped her arms around him, and said, "Bless you, bless you, bless you! That would be so wonderful."

"Well, I figured you couldn't be TRUSTED," he emphasized that word, "to buy your own gown, and also I know your taste is somewhat dubious, and your finances somewhat limited, so I thought I would take care of everything, as usual. She also brought a selection of shoes, handbags, lingerie, and even jewelry."

"Wonderful!" she said again, feeling really happy and relieved.

"Shall I send her in?" he asked. Hermione nodded her head yes. He told her to pick out her gown, he would go down to the boutique and pick out another blouse for her, and he would return later. "I don't want to see the gown you pick out until the night of the Spring Fling. That'll be more special, don't you think?"

"Draco Malfoy, for a cold hearted snake, you are a very sweet man," Hermione said, kissing him again, "and I love you very much."

"Tell me something I don't know," he said. She said that to him once, and he had been waiting to say the line back to her. She laughed. He let the woman with the dresses into the bedroom, and he went to the lifts and walked downstairs.

He lied a little bit to Granger, just then. He told her that the woman from the boutique had brought her everything from shoes to jewelry. That was a slight fabrication. She had brought some jewelry: necklaces, earrings, and the like. But, Draco Malfoy had another piece of jewelry that he himself would present to Hermione on the night of the gala. He smiled just thinking about it. He was going to ask her to marry him, and if she said 'no' he just might hex her arse all the way into next week. He had one other big surprise for her that night as well, maybe even bigger than the first. Yes, little Miss Granger wouldn't know what hit her.


	18. 18 The Cuddle Virgin

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 18: The Cuddle Virgin:**

The entire staff of the Public Relations Department at Gringotts bank was huddled in the conference room, going over last minutes plans for the 'Spring Fling'. They were sorting through all the R.S.V.P.'s, and going through the final seating chart.

Some of the staff members were assigned the task of going through all the items that were to be raffled. It was decided that 100 raffle tickets would be sold for each item being raffled. Each raffle ticket would sell for 100 galleons, and there were over 125 items being raffled off, with 100 raffle tickets for each item. If they sold all 100 tickets for each of the 125 items, that alone could bring in 1,250,000 galleons. The ticket prices to the gala were 1000 galleons apiece, and they had sold over 200 tickets. That was worth 200,000 galleons. Then, each carnival type attraction, of which there were over 40, could easily bring in 1000 galleons each, for a total of 40,000 galleons. When it was all said and done, Hermione was relatively sure they would raise two million galleons. Not to mention all the donations that were pouring in from the witches and wizards who couldn't attend, but still wanted to donate.

Hermione's head was spinning. She couldn't think anymore. All the numbers were flashing before her eyes, and she was truly getting one hell of a headache. In only three more days the event of the season would be held, and its success or failure was in Hermione Granger's pocket. She could only hope that it didn't fail.

Hermione sat back and rubbed her eyes. It was nearly 4:00 pm. She finally said, in almost hushed tones, "There's nothing more to do tonight, why doesn't everyone make an early night of things, and just go home. I'll see everyone in the morning." Several of her employees looked at each other, as if to confirm what she had said. When she put her head on her arm, and rested both on the table, they knew they had heard her correctly. They didn't need to be told twice. Everyone told her goodbye, and they left her in the conference room, all alone with her thoughts and her headache.

She was supposed to go to Harry and Ginny's tonight. She was meeting Draco there at 6:00 pm for dinner. She wanted to cancel so much that it was killing her. She really just wanted to rest. She hadn't slept well for nights. Every time she tried to sleep, she would think either about the gala, or about Draco. She had a hunch that he might ask her to marry him on Saturday, and it was worrying her to no end. They hadn't dated each other that long, nor had they even seriously discussed marriage, but Hermione knew that her hunches were right nine times out of ten.

She wanted to marry Draco. She wanted it more than she wanted anything. That was what had her up at night. What if her hunch was wrong and she was fantasying about something that would never come to pass. What if all he wanted was sex? That thought almost made her laugh. She knew that he could get sex anywhere. She knew he loved her.

She was just so tired. She couldn't keep her eyes open even one more minute.

Draco arrived at the Potter's promptly at 6:00 pm. He hated being late. He was to meet Hermione there. Poor thing, she had probably been working right up until time to leave. He knocked on the door, and the girl Potter opened the door. "Oh, Draco is Hermione with you?" she asked.

"No, we were to meet here? Isn't she here yet?" Draco asked, somewhat concerned.

"No, she's not here. Harry had a couple of things to go over with her concerning our donations for the raffle, and he went to her office, only to find out from her boss that she had the entire staff leave early tonight, because they had all been working so hard. He figured she would still be there, but she wasn't in her office. Harry went to her house, but she wasn't there either."

Draco was now very concerned. Where could she have gone? He walked into the house, and Harry came into the room and said, "Is Hermione with you?" Apparently, Draco wasn't the only one concerned.

Draco, Ginny, Ron, and Harry all sat around the Potter's living room, discussing places she might be. They all decided to look for her at different locations, and to apparate right back to the house if they found her. Ginny was staying put, in case Hermione was just running late, and to stay with the baby.

Draco went back to her office. He had already checked the hotel, which was his assigned task. He walked into her dark office and turned on the lights and looked around. He turned the lights back off and went down the dark hallway. He would pass a person every now and again, and each person he'd passed he'd ask them if they had seen her, and each time he was told the same thing: 'no'.

He walked into a conference room that was at the end of her department. He turned on the light and scanned the room. He was on the verge of turning off the light and leaving, when he focused on someone at the end of the table, with curly brown hair. Her head was resting on her arms, and her arms were on the table. He didn't need to think twice, he knew it was Hermione.

He walked into the room, and took a good look at her pretty face. She was asleep. Sound asleep. All the concern for her, and she was sleeping. He touched her shoulder, and said her name, but she didn't respond. He stood next to her for a moment longer. Her hair was fanned out on the table, covering her arm, and her breathing was even, if not somewhat shallow. He bent down, and kissed her cheek. She stirred somewhat, but still didn't wake. He brushed the hair away from her cheek, and kissed her again, but this time on the corner of her mouth. He couldn't kiss her square on the mouth, because of the angle of her head. When his lips left hers, she woke up and sat up slowly, almost as if she had been expecting him. She stared directly at him, and said, "What are you doing here?"

He kneeled beside her, took her hand, and said, "You know, Granger, you need to pick a fairytale and stick with it. Will it be Cinderella, or Sleeping Beauty?" He kissed her hand, and stood up to lean on the table.

"How long was I asleep?" she inquired.

"No clue," he answered, "but I know that you had us all worried. It's almost 7 o'clock."

"Seven!" she exclaimed, standing up in shock. She had been asleep for almost three hours. "Oh goodness, Draco, I've been asleep for hours! I've just been so tired."

"Let me go back to the Potter's, give them our regards and we can go back to your house and you can rest." He stood her up and pulled her into his strong embrace.

She didn't know what came over her, but she just had to ask, "Draco, are you planning on asking me to marry you on Saturday?"

He was shocked, to say the least. He didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to ruin his surprise, but he was concerned, for what could be the reason she would ask that question, unless she didn't want him to ask her. "Why do you ask?" was the only thing he could think to say in response to her query.

"Never mind, I'm just being silly. I have so much on my plate at the moment, and I'm over thinking everything. You know me, I'm not happy unless I can fret and worry about something," she said as she hugged him around his waist. She was upset that her hunch was apparently wrong. She would have to act as if it didn't matter, one way or the other. They hadn't even been dating that long. Of course, he wasn't going to ask her to marry him.

Draco continued to hold Hermione, glad that she could not see his face. He was frowning. Maybe it was too soon to ask her to marry him. She's had a turbulent and chaotic six weeks. The first anniversary of her mum's death, her dad dying, and the whole business with Bernice, the gala, not to mention their frenzied relationship. He would play it by ear. He could always ask her at a later date, if it appeared she was perturbed over the prospect of his proposal.

Hermione yawned again. He decided to take her right home. He would go tell the Potters she was all right, just tired. Then he would return to her home, and be with her. That's all he ever wanted, just to be with her.

After personally delivering the message that she was safe and sound to her friends, he arrived back at her house. She was on the couch where he left her, fast asleep again. He was hungry, so he searched her cupboards. He found some crackers, cheese and wine. He made up a tray, and brought the tray, two goblets, and the wine into the living room. He sat on her couch and ate until he was satisfied. About an hour later, he decided to go home. He would leave her on the couch. She looked so peaceful. He debated on whether or not to kiss her goodbye. He decided he would, so he bent down and kissed her cheek, and she didn't stir. He was on the brink of leaving, when she opened her eyes, and said, "Hey there, I'm hungry."

He thought, how odd, but said, "You're always hungry. I made up a tray with some cheese and crackers." He sat back down, poured her some wine, and handed her the tray. She finished every bit of the food that was left on the tray, and two glasses of wine.

"Now I'm wide awake," she commented after eating.

"That's probably because you slept all day," he said back to her. "I'm actually kind of tired now."

She said, "We could go up to my bed and cuddle and talk for a while."

He made a face, as if he smelled something bad, and mocked, "You want to go to bed to cuddle and talk?"

She laughed, and said, "Do you realize that we've never fallen asleep in each other's arms? I want to do that with you. I want to cuddle in your arms, talk until the wee hours, and wake up still holding each other."

He rolled his eyes, but gave her his hand and said, "I never thought I would ever say this, but take me to your bed to cuddle, Granger."

She led him upstairs and told him she would meet him in the bedroom. She wanted to brush her teeth, and get into her nightclothes. He left her in the bathroom, and went to her bedroom. He looked around. Should he stay in his clothes? What does one wear when one cuddles? He decided to take off his shoes and socks, his belt, and his shirt. That left him in his trousers and t-shirt. He plopped down on the bed, and put his arms under his head. Cuddling? That would definitely be classified as something one does when they're in love with someone.

She came into the bedroom with a pink t-shirt, and pair of stripped pink pajama bottoms, and with her hair piled on top of her head. He looked her up and down, and said sarcastically, "Wow, sexy."

"Shut up," she said, "What do you sleep in?"

"My bed," he answered.

"What do you wear to your bed?" she asked slowly, as if he was mentally defective.

"I don't wear anything. I sleep in the nude. Nude as the day I was born," he seemed to proclaim, proudly. "Why, do you want me to get ready for bed as well?" he goaded.

"By all means, get comfortable," Hermione expressed with a lopsided grin.

She turned her back to him, and started putting lotion all over her body. It smelled nice. Like apples. He looked at her hair, and thought it looked silly like that, so he said, "At least take your hair down, you look like a clown."

She leaned back and squirted him with her lotion, and it landed on his bare arm. "HEY!" he yelled in response. She leaned back again, and took the large dollop of lotion, and wiped it off his arm, and rubbed it on her hands and neck, and arms. "Now I'll smell like a girl," he complained.

"So, you act like a girl," she said, without looking at him. He reached up to remove the clip from her hair, and tried to pull it out of the mass of curls, but it got tangled, and he ended up pulling her whole head back. "OUCH!" she yipped. He continued to pull, and she put her hands up in her hair. "LET ME DO IT!" she yelled at him. By this time she was on her back, across his legs. He had pulled her that hard. He bent down and gave her a kiss. She gave his face a small 'whack' and sat back up and removed the clip from her hair. She stood up, and got her brush from her dresser, and brushed her hair. She turned to face him, and said, "Better?"

He said, "Yes, thank you. Don't ever wear you hair like that again. It looked stupid."

"First, who are you, the hair police?" she asked, then added, "Second, do you really think I'm ever going to do what you 'tell me' to do. Seriously?"

She sat back on the bed, and he said, "How does one become a hair police?" He looked serious. She just sighed and got under the covers. He followed suit. She cuddled next to his chest, and he put his arm around her. She put her left hand on his stomach. He put his right hand on top of that hand.

"This is nice," she said.

He smelled her. She smelled really good. Her hair was soft under his chin. She felt like she fit perfectly in his arms. "Yes, I admit, this isn't bad. I could get used to this cuddling thing, after sex of course."

"We're cuddling now without sex," she pointed out.

"But the sex part is implied. After tonight's cuddling, I will only cuddle after sex. I just wanted you to be aware of my terms, Granger," he stated.

She sighed again.

He asked, "So, what do people talk about while cuddling?"

She answered, "The usual. They can talk about their childhood, or about something as mundane as what they did that day, or something as abstract as their hopes and dreams for the future." She sat up slightly and looked at him and continued, "You act like I'm the first woman you've ever cuddled."

He took her chin, and said, "I have to admit, you are my first. I am a cuddle virgin." She smiled and sank back down in the warmth of his embrace.

"Cuddle virgin," she said and laughed again, "You're so funny."

"It's the truth," he said.

She sat up again, hit his chest hard, to which he grimaced, and she said, "You have got to be joking with me!"

"No, I don't have to be joking with you. It's the truth," he said, rubbing his chest where she hit him.

She looked at him oddly and said, "Well, I've never."

"I'm sure you haven't," he responded with a laugh. He pulled her back against his chest. "Start talking, Miss Granger, but I don't need to hear about your childhood, because I already know it was idyllic. I know what you did today, slept, and I know your hopes and dreams for the future."

"Do tell," she waned.

"Well, they include me, you, and a bottle of whipped cream. Some chains, a hammock, and an English bulldog." He snickered.

She sat up for the third time, laughed out loud, and said, "I think you might be sick. An English bulldog? What does that have to do with sex? Are you a pervert or something?"

He pinched her arm hard and said, "You're the pervert. I just thought we might like to have a pet someday. Not everything is about sex, you know."

"It is when it comes from you," she said, from the crook of his arm again. She put her head back on his shoulder. "Tell me about your childhood, or what you did today at work or about your hopes and dreams for the future."

"My childhood is best kept in the past, it was what it was, and talking about it won't change things. I was awake during work today, unlike some people in this room, and my hopes and dreams for the future include you, me, a bottle of whipped cream, and an English bulldog," he measured.

"Must you talk about sex all the time?" she complained.

"I have to talk about it these days, because I so rarely ever get any. I'm not even sure if I remember how to do it. They say it's like riding a bike, you never forget, but I'm not so sure," he said, now yawning himself.

She looked up at his face, and said, "We just had sex a couple of days ago."

"Yes, and that's a long time ago," he countered.

"How often do you think we should have sex?" she wondered.

"A couple of times a day," he answered with a smile.

"Maybe the English bulldog will accommodate you," she said, also smiling.

"Maybe I should get a mistress," he joked.

"You're hopeless." She yawned again.

"Yes, a hopeless romantic," he said back, "and I thought you would say something about the mistress line."

"Fine, if you get a mistress, I'll hex you so fast that you won't know what hit you. Okay?" she said, finally tired. "Also, I wouldn't describe being a horny little bugger, who only thinks of sex all the time, as a 'hopeless romantic'."

"What do you know about it?" he asked. "How many hopeless romantics have you dated?"

"Fair point," she said, not wanting to argue.

"How many men have you been with, anyway?" he asked her.

"That's personal," she said slowly.

"That's the point of having a personal conversation," he laboured.

"I'm really not answering that question," she responded.

"That many, huh?" he said jokingly.

"NO!" She sat up once again. "For your information, I've only slept with three men! Happy?"

"Only three?" He was seriously surprised. "Does that include me?"

"Yes." She lay back down.

He asked, "And Weasley?"

"Yes."

"Who's the third? Potter?" Now he sat up, worried about the answer to that question.

"Harry? Goodness no," she retorted with a small laugh. He fell back down on the pillow in relief. He hugged her close again.

"Who's the third?" he asked, curious.

"It doesn't matter," she said adamantly.

"I think it does," he said.

She tried to sit up again, but he held on to her tight. "We can't cuddle if you keep sitting up!" he told her, "Now, who was it?"

"Promise not to get angry?" she asked.

"No."

"Promise not to over react?" she pleaded.

"NO!" Now he sat up. Who was this bloke, and why does he have a funny feeling that he would rather not know? He thought it would be bad if it was Potter, but it must be someone much worse.

She was sitting up in bed now as well, and turned to face him, and said, "Scott Morgan."

He looked confused, and said, "Who the hell is Scott Morgan?"

"Honestly, Draco!" She was stunned. "Your assistant, Scott. Are you telling me you didn't know his last name?!" She was outraged.

"Are you telling me you slept with that wanker?" he asked back.

"Yes, but it was long before I started seeing you," she explained.

"His arse is so fired!" He actually pushed the covers back and got out of bed.

"You can't fire him for that. That's not right!" she said and she got up on her knees on the bed to face him,

"I really thought he was gay," Draco said, pacing the floor.

"I told you he wasn't," she said, falling back on the bed.

He sat back down on the bed, with his back to her, and said, "Maybe you turned him gay." Then he looked at her and smiled.

"You can't fire him," she implored.

"Fine, but I'm transferring him. I can't look at him everyday knowing he's been intimate with you." He was serious. "How did you meet?"

Hermione moved on the bed to sit beside him. "It was before I worked at Gringotts. I was a buyer for Flourish and Blotts. He was an assistant manager. We had a love of books in common, but not much more. You know, he's the one that bought the book from me," she confessed.

He already knew that, but he didn't want to let her know that he knew. "Really? How could he afford it?"

"Maybe he's been embezzling money from your company," she lied and laughed. She got back under the covers. He followed her, and they started to cuddle again. "Really, don't fire him," she finally said.

"I said I wouldn't, but I don't think I can look at him again," he said truthfully.

"If I took that stance, and couldn't look at any of the women you slept with, I would have to gouge my eyes out, and become blind; because I'm sure they're everywhere," she joked.

He joked back, and said, "That's close to the truth."

"Have you ever been in love before?" she asked him.

"No, I'm a love virgin, too," he said with a smile.

"You're just a twit," she said.

"Were you in love with Weasel?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Were you in love with that wanker, possibly gay, Scott?" he asked more deliberately.

"Yes. I don't sleep with someone unless I love them. I told you that when we first started seeing each other," she reminded.

"Did you love them as much as you love me?" He stroked her hair.

"Love isn't measurable by degrees or any other means. Love is just love. But, I'll acknowledge that what I feel for you is much different then what I felt for them, and I've never felt this way for another man before," she said.

That was what he wanted to hear. "Good," he said.

"Why haven't I met your parents?" she asked.

"Because once you meet them, it'll ruin everything," he said seriously.

"Why, won't they approve; because I'm a Mudblood?" she asked quietly, with her head resting on his chest.

That hurt his feelings. But, she was right, and he was shamed to admit as much. "Perhaps," he admitted, "It's hard to explain, but just because I've changed, doesn't mean they ever will. My mother would probably come to accept it, if it makes me happy, but my father left prison a broken and bitter man, with pretty much the same beliefs that he always had. I don't want to submit you to that. Anyway, I'm sure they have already been made aware of the fact that we're dating, from a variety of sources."

"But they haven't heard it from you," she said. It was like she was accusing him and rightfully so, but still he didn't need that to be told to him. He was aware of his shortcomings; he didn't need them pointed out to him. He was suddenly angry, at her, his parents, but mostly at himself.

He finally spoke, after a few moments of silence. His body, which had grown rigid with his guilt, was suddenly more relaxed. "You know, I think I'm more ashamed of them, if I was to admit the truth, and that hurts as well, you know. I'm sorry, Hermione, I'll tell them about us," he confessed.

"What's your favourite colour?" she asked to change the subject.

"I don't know if I can handle any more of these deep personal questions, Granger." He pulled her tighter, and gave her shoulder a squeeze, "but, in the interest of full disclosure, I'll tell you. It's black."

"Black?" she questioned.

"Yes. Black; deal with it," he said proudly.

"Okay, black it is," she said, hugging him tighter.

"What's yours?" he inquired.

"White," she said.

"White?" He seemed offended. "That's not even a colour!"

"I was joking. I thought since you said black, I would say white. It's really orange."

"I've never heard of anyone who likes orange," he stated.

"I'm sure a lot of people like orange," she said back to him.

He moved her from his chest, and turned to his side. She was on her side as well. He had his top leg over hers, and they were holding hands. "It's my turn for stupid questions," he said. "If you could be any animal, what would it be?"

She thought for a moment, and then answered, "Probably a cat. Not a house cat, but some type of exotic wild cat, like maybe a cheetah, or an Iberian jungle cat, or maybe not a cat at all, maybe a lemur. What animal would you be, a snake?"

"Very funny," he said, "You're seriously hurting my self-esteem with all the snake comments."

"Sorry," she said, tweaking his nose. He pulled on hers hard.

"I would be a raven," he answered.

"Because it's black?" she asked.

"You're a riot," he spat, stroking her forehead, then her cheek.

"Well, explain your answer," she said.

"You didn't explain yours, but on second thought, I'm getting very tired, and if you go into one of your long boring speeches, I may end up fast asleep, so no need for explanations from you," he said.

She seemed mildly offended, but mostly annoyed. "I would have had a short explanation, but now you'll never know what it was, because I'll never tell you." She moved to lie on her back. He put his head on her shoulder, and started drawing circles up and down her arm.

"Tell me," he asked.

"No, it doesn't matter now. Tell me why you picked a raven."

"Because it flies, it talks, and it's black," he said, yawning again.

"You have the depth of a puddle," she said with sarcasm.

"And you have the tolerance of an English bulldog," he said with a laugh.

He yawned again. He was truly getting tired. She asked him, "Are you getting tired? You can go to sleep, or if you would rather go home, I won't be offended."

"No, it's fine. If I get truly sleepy, I'll coax the whole 'why Granger wants to be a cat' story out of you, and that'll put me out like a light," he retorted.

"You really are mean sometimes," she said honestly.

"So I've been told," he answered. She turned so her back was to him. He pulled her closer to him, so their bodies were in the same position. He wrapped his arms tight around her, and slipped his top leg in between hers. He really liked this cuddling business.

There was a moment of extended silence. Draco really did feel close to falling fast asleep. He was fighting it, but it was a losing battle.

She said softly, "Are you happy with me?"

"No, not at the moment," he said, "I had just fallen asleep, and you woke me up."

"But in general, are you happy with me?" She turned her face slightly to look over her shoulder, to see his expression.

He smiled, kissed her neck, and said, "I am happier now than I have ever been in my entire life, at this precise moment in fact."

"Good to know," she said back.

He had started to drift off again. She noticed that his grasp on her had relaxed, and his breathing was slower and steadier. He moved from his side, to his back, and brought her along with him. She watched his chest rise and fall at an even interval. She was certain he was sleeping. She stayed cradled in his arms, and began to stroke his chest with a feathery touch. She looked at him again, as his arm dropped from her shoulder. She moved, and put his arm over his chest. She touched his fringe of hair at his forehead, ever so lightly. She bent down and kissed his forehead, with the lightest touch.

With his eyes still closed, he said, "Are you purposely trying to arouse me, so I'll wake back up and ravage you?"

"I thought you were asleep. I was trying not to disturb you," she answered softly. "I won't touch you anymore." She moved away from him, to the other side of the bed.

He pulled her back to him, and put his arms around her again. "It's just that even an innocent touch can arouse someone, you know," he told her.

"An innocent touch can be construed as sexual?" she asked.

He starting stroked her arm, as if to demonstrate, and said, "A stroke of the hand can be sexual, a harmless hug can be sexual, a laugh, a smile, or even a look can be sexual. Sometime I can just think of you, and I get aroused."

"You have some libido, you do," she said.

"You have no idea," he answered, with yet another laugh.


	19. 19 The Proposal

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 19: The Proposal:**

Hermione and Draco were still 'cuddling' way past midnight. Neither wanted to drift off to sleep, even though it was a tempting offer. Each time one of them would be on the edge of slumber, the other one would ask a question, and they would soon be talking once again. This time, it was Hermione who was dangerously close to the world of dreams, when Draco asked, "What first attracted me to you?"

Hermione opened her eyes as wide as she could, to shake any sleep that might try to drift in, and said, "Your hair."

"And people think I'm shallow," he said.

"What attracted you to me?" she asked back.

"I was attracted to your wonderful personality and radiant sense of humour," he said with a perfectly straight face.

"You lie like a rug," she said, stifling a yawn.

"Is that another Muggle expression?" he asked, "Because it's stupid one."

"If it's stupid, that means its Muggle is that it?" she asked.

"You know what," Draco started, "I'm too tired to fight. It's a perfectly good expression. Muggles are wonderful."

His hand was gliding down the covers, to rest on her hip. He grasped her hip and said, "Sometimes I think this isn't real, and it's all going to end."

"I know. I'm sorry I make you feel that way," she apologized.

"You don't make me feel that way," he commented, "You only ever make me feel happy and loved, and sexually frustrated."

"Even when he's tired, he's horny," Hermione said to the air in the room. "Sometimes, I wonder if this will all end, too," she finally admitted, "It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sorry, that's another Muggle expression." She put her hand on his lips, and traced their outline. "I don't want to ever lose you, Draco." She came close and kissed him hard on the lips.

"I know, I think about things like that, too, but I think this is meant to be. The way it's supposed to be. I don't think anything could really make us stop loving each other. Our only obstacle in this relationship is our own pride," Draco told her.

"You're smarter than you look, my dear," she said, and hugged him closer.

"Do I look dumb?" he asked sincerely.

"Well, there's a Muggle stereotype about dumb blondes, beautiful, but blonde and dumb. It's stupid, and it's not you anyway." She was tired, and felt like she was rambling.

"Do you agree nothing will tear us apart?" He wanted an answer.

"If you sleep with Pansy again, that might do it," she answered.

"I won't, I promise," he said and he meant that, too.

Hermione said, "I hope she doesn't come to the gala. She didn't send back her R.S.V.P., and I know she didn't buy a ticket, but still, I hope she's not there."

He could tell it really concerned her. "If she's there, we'll just keep our heads high, and handle everything with grace and dignity."

"I'll be Grace, and you can be Dignity," she laughed. She thought she made a joke.

"Are you always this punch drunk when you're tired?" Malfoy asked her.

"Yes," she said, with a slur. She closed her eyes again. "What if that doesn't work, and she still tries to start something with us?"

"Then we curse her," Draco answered, "Are we wizards, or what?"

"Draco?" she asked.

He thought she was asleep. "What?"

"I love you very much."

"Me too, but you."

"Should we go to sleep now?" she asked, "I'm so tired, and we have to work in the morning."

"Goodnight, my Granger," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Goodnight, my Malfoy." She hugged his chest.

All of the sudden, he said, "I'm no longer tired."

"Oh my goodness, shut up and go to sleep!" she begged. She put her pillow over her head.

"What would you do if you had a child who was a squib?" he asked.

"No more questions!" she begged more.

"What if we had a child together and it was a squib?" he asked her, and picked up the corner of her pillow.

"Please, leave me in peace," she murmured.

"You know, there's a higher chance of a Muggle born having a squib, than a pure blood," he spouted.

She threw her pillow at him and was now as awake as he was. "That's not true! Where did you get your facts?" she asked.

"Everyone knows that, Granger." He took her pillow and put it under his head with his.

"Then it's a good thing we won't have a child together," she said, grabbing her pillow back, and making his head bounce in the process.

"You wouldn't love your little squib baby, would you?" he asked her, just to irritate her.

"You're a moron! Go to sleep!" she begged for the last time. This time she put the covers over her head, and turned so her back faced him.

He climbed under the covers, pinched her bum, made her squeal, and then he said, "I guess if we had a squib baby, we could hide it away, or sell it or something."

She threw the covers off them both and said, "Get out of my room! That's an awful thing to say." She lay back down and crossed her arms over her chest. Now she was wide-awake as well.

He practically threw himself on her body, propped his chin on her folded arms, and looked directly in her eyes. "You would make a great, mum, Hermione, even to a squib baby." He was being serious. She wrapped her arms around him, and he put his cheek against her breast, and his body flushed against hers.

"You would make a great dad, as well," she said, playing with his hair.

"I don't know about that, it worries me sometimes. I didn't have the best role model," he admitted to her.

"Well, then you know how not to act," she explained. "Trust me, Malfoy; I could never love a man who would be a terrible father. I haven't told you before, but I heard you talking to baby James. You'll do just fine."

He thought that was the nicest thing she had ever said to him.

He pulled her back to him, so he was on his back, with her using his chest for a pillow. "What's your most embarrassing moment, Draco?" Hermione asked him.

"Until I met you, it would have been being turned into a ferret." She laughed when he said that. He pinched her arm again.

"Please stop pinching me. It really hurts, and it leaves a bruise," she said with a whine. He wasn't impressed, and pinched her again. She hit him hard in the chest. "So, what's your most embarrassing moment since you've met me?" she asked.

"Where do I begin?" he started, "Breaking my hip and pelvis having sex in a shower immediately jumps to my mind, rolling down a hill and getting mud in my hair, oh, and how about having my nose broken with an apple. There's being mistaken as a homosexual, there's that meeting you crashed at my office, being taken to a Muggle police station…those are just to name a few. What's yours?"

Hermione had her hand on his heart and she said, "When I was nine, my parents had a big anniversary party for their 17th anniversary. I had made them this big card out of a large box. I decorated it with tissue paper flowers. It was bigger than I was. I had to hide it outside, by the back door. I worked on it for days, and was so proud of it. I went out to get it, but the door locked behind me. So, I had no choice but to walk all the way around to the front door. It was pouring rain. By the time I got to the front door, not only was I soaking wet, but my card was ruined."

"I walked into the entryway, and all my parents' friends saw me, and everyone started laughing, because I was so wet, and the card was a joke. You can imagine this hair wet." She looked at him. Actually, he's seen that hair wet. He didn't think it was that bad. "Anyway, my father walked through the crowd, with a smile on his face, and he told me to give my card to my mum anyway, but it was ruined, and I was wet, and everyone was still laughing. I was mortified. I ran up stairs and locked myself in my room. My mum came up later and said that by the next day everyone would forget it happened, but I never forgot. I decided right then that I would never laugh at a child, or dismiss their feelings. It was a little thing to all of them, but it turned out to be the most embarrassing moment of my life."

When she finished, he looked down at her, put his hand under her chin, and brought her face up to his and kissed her.

"I'm sorry that happened to nine year old Hermione," he said with a smile, not making light of her memory, but being sincere. "I promise if you ever get caught out in the rain again, with a tissue paper card, I won't laugh at you, and if you recall, I was caught out in the rain with you that day you came to my office like a crazy woman, and I didn't think you looked that bad, and frankly, if that day didn't embarrass you, then nothing should."

She looked at him with wrinkled brows. "Why would that embarrass me?"

"Come on, Granger," he laughed, "you were a right crazy woman that day. Opening doors and yelling 'Malfoy' and then running out in the rain."

"Point taken," she said.

Hermione was quiet again. Draco looked down at her, and was sure she was finally, really asleep. He had been waiting for her to fall in a deep sleep. It was silly, and he had no explanation for what he was about to do, but he just knew he wanted to do it, in case he didn't get the chance later.

She was breathing steady, and her eyes were closed tight. He whispered, "Hermione?" No answer and no response. He said it once more, "Hermione?" She didn't even flinch. He moved his arm out from under her head. He put his face closer to hers. She was definitely asleep. "Hermione, just in case I don't get a chance to ask you on Saturday, I wanted to know something…If I ask you to marry me, what do you think you would say?" He whispered the whole thing. She didn't move a muscle. Her eyes didn't flutter once. She was asleep. He just wanted to say it, in case he didn't get to say it on Saturday. He put his head back on his pillow, turned to his side, and let slumber finally call him to sleep.

Hermione lay as still as she could. She couldn't believe what she heard. Did she dream it, or did he just say, 'If I ask you to marry me, what would you say?' She tried to remain still, in case he was still awake. When she was pretty sure he was asleep, she got up, went over to her desk, and as quietly as she could, she took out a piece of parchment. She wrote, "_If you asked me, I would say yes." _She folded the piece of parchment in half and then in quarters, and stuck in under her pillow. She didn't really want him to see it, she just felt compelled to answer him in some way, 'just in case' he didn't ask her on Saturday, and she wanted to write it down, 'just in case' this all turned out to be a dream. She wanted some tangible proof that he did certainly ask what she thought he asked. She put her head back on her pillow and fell asleep.

When she got up the next morning, Draco was still sleeping. He looked as fresh as he did each day. He didn't even look like he had been asleep. His hair wasn't even messed up. That wasn't fair. She stood up, and looked at herself in the mirror. She decided to get an early shower. She couldn't have him looking better than she did in the morning.

When Draco woke up, he immediately noticed that Granger was gone. He looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was only 6:30 in the morning. He thought he heard the shower. Good, he could go back to sleep. He took her pillow and put it over his head, and tried to go back to sleep.

Hermione slipped into her room, grabbed her skirt and top and underwear in the still dark room, quietly as she could, and went back into the bathroom to get dressed. Then she went downstairs in her bare feet, to make some coffee. Draco was still asleep. After the coffee brewed, she went to pour a cup, and she lost her grip on the coffeemaker's carafe, and the whole thing slipped from her hold, fell to the floor, and splashed her with hot coffee. She yelled in pain.

Draco had just gone back to sleep, when he heard Hermione come into the room to get her clothes. When she left, he threw her pillow off his head, onto the floor. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Then he noticed a little piece of parchment that must have been under her pillow. He leaned down, picked it up, and had just started to unfold it to see what it was, when he heard Hermione scream out in pain. He jumped from the bed and ran downstairs.

Hermione was standing in the kitchen, with burns on her legs, chest and arms. She rushed to the kitchen sink to rinse her arms. Draco came running into the kitchen in his bare feet, and she cried out, "Watch out for the broken glass." He skidded to a halt, but then saw the brown stains from the hot coffee all over her clothes, and he rushed to her anyway. She was crying. He helped her over to a chair, and without words, he ran to the living room to find his jacket. His wand was in his jacket.

He came back into the kitchen, and helped her out of her blouse. He put his wand on the burns on her chest and left arm, and said an incantation, and the pain immediately subsided. He did the same with her legs and thighs. She still had tears in her eyes. He pulled her up to him, and held her. "Sh." He tried to calm her. "It's alright now. It won't even scar." She pushed away from him, and looked where the burns had been, and saw he was right.

"Thank you so much, Draco. That was a new shirt, too," she complained. She slipped off her ruined skirt as well, and picked up the skirt and the shirt and threw them aside. "I'll take care of them later," she said. He took his wand and cleaned up the glass.

"You know, I like that look. You should go to work dressed just like that." He pointed to her blue knickers and bra. "I think you would have gotten your promotion a lot quicker if you had. I know that's how women get promotions at my company."

She walked up to him, pointed in his face, and said, "You had better be joking." Then she said, "This is like the nightmare I had last night. I dreamt I was at the gala, and everyone else had their best clothes on, and I was stark naked. It was scary."

"I've seen you naked, and it's not that scary," he said to her, as he started back upstairs. All of the sudden, he remembered the piece of parchment. He turned to her and asked, "Were you planning on leaving for work this morning, and not telling me goodbye?"

"No, why?" she asked back.

"Well, I thought you left me a note upstairs. I figured that it was a note telling me you went to work, and that you loved me, and so on and so forth." He smiled.

OH MY GOODNESS! Hermione was terrified suddenly. She forgot about that stupid bloody piece of parchment that she placed under her pillow! How did he even see it? "No, I didn't leave you a note. Well, I need to go upstairs and change, why don't you stay down here, and make us some tea, since we can't have coffee." She had to get that note.

"What's up?" He could tell that she was acting strange.

"Nothing, just stay down here. I'll be right back," she said as she started to run. He caught up with her.

"You're a terrible liar. You must remember I was in Slytherin House. The act of lying was an art form to us. Also, I can tell when you're lying from a mile away. What was that piece of parchment anyway? The one that would have been under your pillow?" he asked. He had her by her arm.

"Malfoy, you're crazy. Now please, I don't like standing around in my knickers and bra. I must get upstairs." She removed her upper arm from his hand and bolted for the stairs again. Suddenly, he ran past her. He was going to read that bloody note if it was the last thing he did!

She jumped as fast as he did, and knocked him into the couch. He fell over the back of it, and tried to grab her, but couldn't. 'Why was she such a fool?' she thought. He couldn't read that note! She was just as determined as he was. She reached the bottom step when he caught up with her, pulled her back by her bra, and started climbing the stairs, two at a time, in front of her.

Hermione reached for his leg, and pulled him down several steps. Rug burns be damned! He faltered for a moment, and she actually climbed over his body. She was now several steps ahead of him, and he grabbed her foot and yanked. She toppled over, and landed on the step next to him. He pushed her down, by the top of her head no less, and started crawling up the stairs, and she reached for his t-shirt, and ripped it right off him, but that didn't stop his flight.

He reached the top landing and she still had a hold of his leg. She detained him long enough to make it to the landing as well. She pulled him back and ran ahead of him, but only for a split second. He pushed her into the wall, and she cried out in pain, as her elbow hit the wall. He turned around in concern, saw she was holding her arm, and he asked, "Did you hurt yourself?"

Suddenly she said, "See, I'm a good liar!" and she ran ahead of him down the hall.

He pulled her arm and wretched her back toward him, and she fell into him and he toppled over, with her on top. He yelled, "Oh, my hip."

She put her knee on his groin, managed to stand, and yelled, "Don't use my own trick on me." She reached the bedroom door, but he was still on the floor, in apparent pain. She turned back around and knelt beside him. "Merlin, Draco, are you really hurt?" she asked.

He pushed her over from her kneeling position, and said, "Who's the best liar, now?" He rushed into the room, with her close behind. Hermione reached the note first however, as Draco hadn't seen where he had dropped it when he flew downstairs after she burned herself.

He came up behind her, the note clutched in her hand, and lifted her up by her waist, and threw her on the bed. He climbed on top, straddled her body, and put both his hands around her single hand that clutched the note. They struggled for a few more seconds, when, completely out of breath, he said, "This is bloody insane! I don't even care what the fucking note says now." He got off her and sat on the bed, out of breath. She sat up as well, next to him.

"It's just, I wrote something last night on this parchment, but it's private. It's not to you," she said breathing hard.

"You left a note for yourself under your pillow?" he asked, "You're a bit of a loon, aren't you?" He bent his head between his knees. He still couldn't breath, and he had a stitch in his side. She was sitting beside him, holding the note, but not tightly. He looked at her hand, with his head still bent. He could easily get it from her now. Her defenses were down. So, that's what he did. He reached over, grabbed the note from her hand, and pushed her off the bed for good measure. He climbed over the bed, and stood on the other side. He started to unfold the paper.

"Please, Malfoy! Don't read that note," she begged.

"Why?" he pleaded through ragged breaths.

"It's personal," she said.

"I thought we weren't keeping secrets anymore, Hermione," he said with mocked sweetness. He unfolded the note, but suddenly held in above his head, when she just as unexpectedly climbed over the bed to try to get it from him.

"Malfoy, I am so serious. Please, don't read that note," she said mortified. If he read that note, she felt like she would have a new embarrassing moment. He pushed her on the bed, and she landed on her back. He actually had the gall to sit on her, and while sitting on her, he read the note.

"What?" he inquired, after reading the note. The note said, _"If you asked me, I would say yes."_ He didn't even know what that meant. He got off her, and she pushed into his back, and ran to her bathroom and slammed the door shut.

He sat on her bed for a moment. Then, like a flash, he remembered. He thought she was asleep, when he said to her, "If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?" She apparently wasn't asleep. She heard him. Then he thought, so what? She heard me. She wrote her answer in a note, and the answer was, '**yes**.' So what's the problem, aside from the fact that he practically beat her up to reach the bloody thing before she did?

He knocked on the bathroom door, and said. "Hermione, did you fall asleep before me, or after me, last night." There was no answer. "Hermione?" He knocked again. He ran down to the kitchen, grabbed his wand, ran back upstairs, and unlocked the door. She was sitting on the side of the tub, with her arms and legs crossed, looking quite upset. He rushed in the room, and asked again, "What question does this answer?"

She turned her head the other direction. He got down on his knees in front of her, and forced her to look at him. "Hermione, I mean it, answer me now." He was becoming angry. He didn't see why she was acting this way. "Just answer me; did you hear me ask you to marry me last night, when I thought you were asleep?"

"Why did you have to ask me while I was asleep? Why couldn't you ask me while I was awake? Is it because you didn't really want an answer?" she fumed.

He stood up, and said, "Well, I want a bloody answer now."

"Here's your answer," she said as she also stood, "yes I heard you, and yes that was my response. What are you going to do about it now? Run and hide? Maybe give me a ring while I'm in a coma? Is it easier to face me while I'm unconscious? Is that because you don't really mean it?" she screamed.

He threw the note at her, and said, "You know what, I don't even want to ask you now. You're such a stupid bitch sometimes. You have to make everything so difficult. So, don't worry about the stupid little note. I'll pretend I didn't see it, and you pretend you didn't hear me, you little liar."

He started to leave, and she ran in front of him. "How am I a liar?" she screamed.

"Pretending to be asleep! If you heard me, you should have answered me outright. I thought Gryffindors were brave. You're such a coward; you had to write your response on a note, that you didn't even want anyone to see. Why didn't you want me to see it, Granger?" he accused, as he shook her by her shoulders.

"Because of this. This right here. The way you are at this moment. You'll never truly understand, so just get the hell out of my house!" she yelled. She pushed past him, ran to her bedroom, locked the door with magic, and started to cry.

"You're crazy, that's what you are!" he yelled at her, and he disapparated from her house, confused, angry, upset, embarrassed, ashamed, and every emotion in between.


	20. 20 The Closet

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 20: The Closet****:**

"Only two more days until the gala." That was Hermione's mantra. She'd been repeating that sentence quietly in her head all day…_only two more days, only two more days._ To say that she was a nervous wreck would be quite the understatement. She was also on pins and needles, because of her fight with Draco on Tuesday. She tried to apologize on Tuesday evening, but he wasn't home. She went to his office Wednesday, but was told he was out of the country, for goodness sakes. Hermione tried. No one could say that she didn't try. She would have to wait for him to make the first move, since he seemed to be avoiding her.

Harry stopped by her office that day, and she told Harry all about Draco's proposal 'while she was sleeping,' and her written reply, and he told her she was in the wrong and she needed to apologize. He told her that she took his right to propose the way he wanted to away from him. He told her if she was going to say yes, then 'what was the big deal' if Draco read her note. She told Harry to piss off. She told Mr. Potter if he was going to take sides, he should take hers. He told her he wasn't taking any sides, but she needed to stop acting like a lunatic, and Draco needed to stop acting like an idiot, and 'oh by the way, piss off yourself, Hermione'.

So, her friends thought she was in the wrong, and she thought so as well. What could she do about it though, if he wasn't receptive to her apology?

Why couldn't Draco just ask her outright to marry him? Why didn't he confirm that he wanted to marry her when she asked him point blank if he was planning on asking her? Harry was right, maybe Draco wanted it to be a surprise, and Hermione ruined it for him. Harry Potter needed to go jump off a bridge, stupid wanker.

As far as the Spring Fling, everything was done. Everything was taken care of and there wasn't one thing left to do. She had tripled checked everything, so here she was two days before the gala with nothing to do. She was going to go find Draco. She went back to his work and passed the receptionist, to go talk to Scott. Unfortunately, she was told by Draco's new assistant, (a 50-year-old grandmother of two) that Draco had left word that he would not be back into the office for a week. She also said that his old assistant left the company, and she had no idea where he went.

She went home, took a cardboard box and some tissue paper, and made him an enormous card, just like the one she made for her parents when she was nine. On the outside, she wrote, _**"I'm Sorry"**_, and on the inside she wrote, _**"I hope you ask your question to me again sometime when I'm awake. My answer will be the same. I Love You, Hermione."**_

She decided to go his house. She didn't know if she would be able to apparate directly in his house, or if he would have had that blocked, so she apparated to the front door and knocked. A house elf answered the door and told her that Mr. Draco was outside in the back garden entertaining guests, but she could come in and wait, and he would go get him. Hermione told the little elf that she wouldn't be staying, but she asked it to please give him the card later, after his guests left.

She turned to leave when she heard, "Where the hell are you going, Granger?" She turned around and saw Draco standing on the threshold holding her card.

She walked up to him and said humbly, "I came to apologize."

"Yeah, I read your card," he said with a crooked smile. He bent down and kissed her cheek, "I guess I'm sorry as well."

"You guess?" She smiled back. "That's good enough for me."

"So, what are you really doing here? You could have had someone deliver your card," he said, still leaning in the doorway.

"Well, it's a pretty special card. I couldn't trust it to just anyone," she said back. "I'll come back later, if you'd like, after your company leaves."

"Oh, is that so?" he sneered, "Why don't you join us?" He opened the door wider.

"Well," she started, "I still have a lot to do, for the gala, that is."

He interrupted, walked up to her, put his arms around her shoulders and started walking her into his house. "Granger, Granger, Granger, how many times have I told you, you are a terrible liar." He put his arms around her waist and kissed her lips slowly. When he finally stopped, he put her arms around his neck, and said, "You are supposed to kiss me back, you know." Then he bent his head back down, and kissed her again, and this time she was much more receptive. "Come on, come inside," he said when they parted.

"Draco, you have guests, I don't want to impose," she waned.

"No, they're anxious to get to know you," he said sweetly, taking her hand, and leading her outside to the veranda. She was shocked when she saw Draco's mother and father sitting around a table on the veranda. They both looked older, and his father looked like prison had not been kind to him, but on the whole, they were still extremely good-looking, but intimidating looking, figures.

Hermione forgot to breathe for a moment when she saw Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Her breath felt hitched in her throat. Draco, who by this time was squeezing her hand tightly, leaned into her, and whispered in her ear, "Time to pluck up that Gryffindor courage," and he kissed her cheek.

Lucius stood from his chair when she entered the veranda. He took the hand that Draco had just released, and put it in his, and brought it to his lips. He kissed her hand, and then still holding it tight, said, "So nice to see you again, Miss Granger, you remember my wife?" Hermione nodded her head curtly to them both, and then sat down in the chair Draco had pulled out for her. When Lucius let go of her hand, she grasped it tightly with her other hand, and started to wring them together slowly. This was awkward, to say the least.

Mrs. Malfoy said, "It's quite a surprise to see you. Draco told us you wouldn't be able to join us today. I'm please that you were able to make it. Draco told us you two were getting serious, but we were starting to think he was making the whole thing up. We had been hearing rumours for weeks that you were dating, but since he had neither confirmed nor denied the stories, we didn't know what to believe." Narcissus smiled sweetly, and Hermione smiled back.

Hermione said, "I'm so happy to get reacquainted with both of you as well." Suddenly, a house elf brought out another place setting for Hermione and a second later, food magically appeared in front of all of them.

Draco leaned over during lunch and said, "Do you like the centerpiece?" The center of the table had a large crystal vase, and had a lovely arrangement of yellow and white daisies. "I picked them out just for you."

"How did you know I'd come and even see them?" She leaned over and said back to him.

"I told you, I know you better than you know yourself." He grinned and reached over to rest his hand on her knee, where it stayed during the remainder of lunch.

After lunch the group went into Draco's living room for some wine. Lucius sat next to Hermione on one of the couches, and Draco sat next to his mother on the other. "I'm sorry that my wife and I can't attend the spring gala. Draco tells us you've done a wonderful job with everything this year. We don't socialize as much as we used to, but I'll be sending a large donation," Mr. Malfoy said to Hermione.

Hermione said thank you, and then looked at Draco, with a 'what the hell' look. His parents were being nice, and pleasant, and normal…to her, a Mudblood. This was all too surreal.

After another hour of normal conversations and a pleasant all around experience, the older couple excused themselves, and told Hermione and Draco goodbye. As soon as they left, Hermione looked at Draco, and said, "That was weird."

"Why was that weird?" Draco didn't understand. He thought his parents had been more than cordial.

"They were so nice," she explained.

"Well, I told them to leave their 'I hate Mudbloods' t-shirts at home," Draco said sarcastically. The thought of his parents in 'I hate Mudbloods' t-shirts made her giggle. That and the two glasses of wine she had. He was amused by her sudden outburst of giggles, and tickled her slightly under her right rib. She smacked his arm away.

"So, you told them about us?" Hermione asked.

"What gave you that impression? You're so thick sometimes," he said with a smirk.

"I'm glad I came here today," she told him.

"I knew you would," he responded.

"How? How did you really know that I would come?"

"I owled your office earlier to ask you to come here and they said you left, so I figured you left to find me. I owled my office and my assistant said that you had just been there. It was only a matter of time before you came here. The power of deduction. I have a brain inside my beautiful blonde head, you know." He pinched her again.

"Liar," she said.

"What am I lying about now?" he inquired.

"You fired Scott." She folded her arms.

"First, no I didn't, he quit, to move on to bigger and better things. Second, I never once said I didn't lie. It's one of my best qualities," Draco said bemused.

He started kissing her face, nibbling on her lips. He opened her mouth, and pressed his tongue inside. It felt good to hold her again, kiss her again. He started walking backwards, still kissing her, until they were in front of a closet, directly off his entryway. He opened the door of the closet, and while still kissing, nibbling, licking, he walked with her into the closet and shut the door. It was pitch black inside.

She pulled away slightly and said is a husky voice, "Why are we in a closet?"

"Because someone might see us kissing." He kissed her more.

"Whose here in your house that might see us? Your elves?" she inquired. She had her hands on his chest.

"Fine," he conceded, "it's always been a fantasy of mine to snog your brains out in a closet. Okay?" He started raining little kisses down her throat, to the hollow between her breasts, and his hands were doing the most fantastic thing to her lower body at the moment.

She said in his ear, right after she bit his earlobe, "What kind of fantasy is that?"

He started to unbutton her blouse, and he put one hand on the underside of one breast, and felt the weight. He slipped the tips of his fingers inside the cup, and kissed her collarbone. Then, he managed to say, "At Hogwarts, there were plenty of times I wanted to grab your hand, pull you into an abandoned broom closet, and have my way with you."

She laughed, and said, "You're an idiot." Then she moaned. What in the world was he doing to her?

"I've been told that very thing at least ten times a day since I've started dating you," he said in response to her idiot comment. He pulled her skirt up so it was bunched at her waist.

"Shall we leave the closet now?" she said between moans. His hands were rubbing the inside of her thighs, her shirt was completely unbuttoned.

"Must…live out…my…fantasy," he managed to say, while still exploring her body with his mouth.

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and kissed his neck, chest, and nipples. She ran her hands up and down his spine. She reached inside his waistband, and drew her hand back and forth against his stomach. He flinched. He was either a little ticklish, or very aroused.

"Draco?" she said, and then kissed his chest.

"What?" he answered, and then kissed her stomach. He was down on his knees. How did he have room?

"We could take this upstairs and be more comfortable," she suggested.

He suddenly stood up and said, "If this is one of your cruel, evil jokes, then I'll curse you, so help me, I will." She laughed, pulled down her skirt, and reached for the closet handle. It wouldn't move.

"Did you lock the door?" she asked, leaning in and kissing his neck.

"No, silly, try the handle." He kissed her neck in return.

"Silly? You called me 'silly'? Well, 'silly', I did try the handle and it won't budge," she said. He moved her so he was by the door, for the closet was that small, and he tried the handle and it wouldn't move.

He turned back to her. "Use your wand," he suggested, kissing her right through the silky material of her bra.

"Where do you suppose I have my wand hidden, _silly_? It's in my purse, in your living room." She leaned down and kissed his chest again. "Use yours."

"Hermione, to paraphrase an old joke that you, yourself used, that's not a wand in my pocket. I don't have my wand with me," he said, and then he kissed her hard.

She pushed him away from her. "You had better be kidding, because you're killing me, and I think if we try to have sex in this closet, it will go as badly as the sex we tried to have in the shower." She kissed him again and placed her hands in his hair, then moaned slightly.

He stood back up suddenly, realizing the gravity of the situation and said, "Well, isn't that just grand!" He turned and tried the handle again. He jiggled it back and forth, "Damn it all to hell!" He knew they wouldn't be able to Apparate either, not without their wands.

"Draco, are you playing around, or are we really locked in this stupid closet?" She was no longer aroused.

"Don't get snippy with me, I'll get us out." He pulled his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Don't tell me not to get snippy!" she said snidely. "It's your fault we're locked in here."

He turned to face her, kissed her very hard on her swollen, red lips, and said, "Why must you always place blame? Now shut up and let me think." He turned back around, and started buttoning-up his shirt.

"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione hissed, "don't tell me to shut up. I can talk if I want to, and don't you forget it!" She pushed in front of him, and tried the handle again; all the while she was straightening her clothing.

"It won't open." He leaned his head over her shoulder and said in her ear.

"I know!" she said.

"I have an idea," Draco said, "why don't you write the door a note, and maybe it'll open then. You're good at notes."

She whipped around, grabbed his shoulders and said, "Why don't you wait until it's asleep, and ask it to open then?" Then she pushed him, but they were in such a small space, that he only moved a bit.

He grabbed her shoulders and said, "Will you please just shut up a moment so I can think?"

Hermione seethed, "You need me to be quiet to think? Why? It's pretty empty up there." She pointed to his head. "You should be able to think and listen at the same time."

"Granger! Seriously, I am getting claustrophobic!" He moved her behind him and tried the door handle again.

"Then you shouldn't have accosted me, and dragged me to a closet," Hermione shouted, reaching around him and trying the door handle herself.

He faced her, put his hands on her shoulders and pleaded, "Please, get us out of here! I'm begging you!"

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. Then she thought of something. "Call one of your house elves!"

"Don't you think it's too crowded in here already?" he asked.

She hit his forehead. "Think for just a minute, please," she requested. "They can get us out of here!"

Of course, the elf could Apparate outside the closet, and then let them out. He really didn't think of that. He called one of his elves, and it appeared outside the door.

"Where are you, Master Malfoy?" the little elf asked.

"We're locked in this closet. Listen Mimi; try to get this door open. Use magic if you have to, and if you still can't get it, then go upstairs and get my wand and pass it to me under the door." He leaned down to talk through the crack. While he was leaning down, Hermione pinched his bum.

He turned around fast and seethed, "Now is not the time or place, Granger!"

She rolled her eyes, but since it was so dark in the closet he didn't see. "It's just since I know we aren't going to be locked in here forever, and that freedom is imminent, I suddenly think it's kind of exhilarating being in here," she explained.

Draco pulled her to him, kissed her languidly on her lips, and said, "Your good girl act is just that, an act isn't it, you tart," and he kissed her again. The elf decided at that moment to open the door. He patted the elf's head, in thanks, and started running with Hermione's hand in his, toward the stairs.

"Miss Granger received an owl while you were in the closet," the elf said. Hermione pulled her hand out of Draco's grasp and reached down for the note.

She opened it, turned to Draco and said, "I have to get back to work. It's sort of urgent, about the gala."

"NOOOO!" he whined and stomped his foot like a five year old.

She pulled him to her, kissed his mouth and said, "Only a few more days, and then I will be completely at your disposal."

Draco pulled her up against his body again. "Don't leave me again, all hot and bothered and hard as a rock. Please, appease me," he begged and started kissing her again. He ran his hands up and down her body. She pushed him away slightly.

"Draco, it's really important, I have to go," she implored and ran and got her purse, and glanced back at him again.

He did look slightly bothered as he stated, "Only you would get us locked in a closet."

She laughed and kissed his cheek, then reached down and felt his hard manhood. "I'll see you both tonight, okay?" she said, and then she winked.

He pulled her hand from him, winced for a moment, and said, "Not tonight. I won't wait until tonight! Directly after work, promise me!" He pulled her by her arm, and kissed her again. "After work; promise me you'll see me after work."

"I promise," she said, and she meant it. She disapparate away. She didn't apparate back to work however. The owl was sent by an employee at "Flourish and Blotts". She had ordered something earlier that day, and they had just received it, and she was going to go pick it up. It was something she wanted to give to Draco on the night of the gala.


	21. 21 The Scavenger Hunt

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 21: The Scavenger Hunt****:**

Hermione went back to work after she left the bookstore. She was so pleased with her purchase, that she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She got Draco a book, but not just any book, the perfect book. She wanted to give it to him on the night of the gala. She was looking forward to Saturday night. She was looking forward to the gala, and to the night she was to spend with Draco. She was not very productive the rest of the day. Her mind kept wandering back to being in the closet with Draco.

Did he really fantasize about her, and being in a closet with her, while they were in school. That was ludicrous. She was sure he just said that. She never got any kind of indication from him that he had any feeling except hate for her during school. Well, she was sure that he didn't hate her any longer.

Around 5:00 pm, just as she was leaving to go home, she received an owl. She took the note from its leg, and all the note said was: "_Go outside the bank and look up."_ She grabbed her purse and her recently purchased book, which was wrapped in brown paper with a string, and went outside.

As soon as she went outside, she saw an envelope, which was suspended in the air by a string attached to a yellow balloon. She took the envelope, and watched the balloon float toward the sky, and disappear in the clouds. She opened the envelope, and the note inside said: _"Go to Mocha Café and order two large black coffees."_ What? She stuffed the note in her purse and went to the café and ordered two large black coffees. She asked for a carrier, and as she was putting the coffees in the carrier, she noticed something written on the outside of one of the coffee cups. The words read: _"Go to our park, and find a sycamore tree with a red ribbon." _

Hermione had a large grin on her face now. It was cute that he called it 'our' park. She apparated to the park, (the one where they had their picnic, and rolled down the hill that fateful Saturday) and she looked around for a sycamore tree with a red ribbon. It only took her one minute to find the tree. On the ribbon was printed the words: "_Go to the bench that has a red balloon tied to it."_

She saw the bench immediately. She went to the bench, and on the balloon was written, _"Go to the elm tree that has a green bow on it."_ This was crazy! She wondered what all the Muggles thought about the bows and balloons. Maybe he had enchanted them so only she could see them. She found the elm tree, after a little difficulty. Tied on the elm tree was a green balloon, and on the end on the string was a single white daisy. She took the daisy, and saw that on this balloon was written, _"Put the daisy behind your ear and come to our swings."_ 'Our swings,' how sweet. She released this balloon as well so it could float away in the air to join its brothers.

She did as instructed and went to the swings. There was Draco, on the very swing she was on that Saturday, and he was actually swinging. Back and forth, he flew. He was swinging as if he didn't have a care in the world. He noticed her standing there, and said, "What a coincidence. Imagine meeting you here. What are you doing here, Granger?"

"Gee, I thought it was a pretty day, and decided to come to the park, how about you?" she asked.

"You couldn't lie if your life depended on it, could you?" Draco laughed.

"Fine, I was on a little scavenger hunt, and I think I found my prize," she answered.

"Oh, am I your prize? I rather think it's the other way around," he said as he continued swinging. Then he asked, "Are one of those coffee's for me?" He started to slow the swing down, but was still going fairly high.

"No, they're both mine. Sorry, I'm really, really thirsty," she said playfully. To prove her point, she took a drink out of one, and then another drink out of the other. While his swing was suspended temporarily on the upward motion, he took his opportunity to jump out. He landed only a small distance from her.

"Impressive," Hermione told him.

"I try," he said humbly. He took one of the coffees from her, and sat on a bench and started drinking. She sat beside him and started to drink as well.

Draco asked, "So is everything all set for Saturday?"

"I believe so," she answered.

"Are we leaving on Friday?" He looked at her.

"I don't know about you, but I'm leaving on Friday, around noon," she smiled.

"Noon it is, then," he said to her. "So, you picked out your dress, shoes, and the like," he said, finishing his coffee.

"I think I have everything. I'm sure I won't embarrass you, if that's what you mean," Hermione suddenly snapped. She didn't really mind that he was asking questions, she just was beginning to wonder if this little game with the notes and the balloons was just so she would bring him a coffee. She decided to ask him as much, "So, was this entire ruse so I would bring you a cup of coffee? Because, you could have just asked nicely, and I probably would have brought you one. I thought we were going to meet at your house after work, not here at some park."

He didn't answer, but he looked at the brown paper package tied with string that she was holding, and asked, "What's in the package?"

"Oh," she said softly as if she just seemed to remember she had it. She wanted to wait until the gala to give it to him, but so she wouldn't have to lie she said, "I stopped by Flourish and Blotts earlier. They ordered a book for me."

"I thought maybe it was a present for me," he said with a smile.

"Maybe it is. I didn't say otherwise," Hermione said back.

He put his coffee down, and tried to snatch the book from her, but she put it under her bottom and sat on it. "Evil, aren't you?" he said. "Well, if you got it at Flourish and Blotts, then I would have assumed it was a book without you telling me. Did you finally get me that Muggle to Wizard dictionary I've been wanting?"

"No, it's not that," she said in response. She picked up their cups, stood up, picked up her package also, and went to the closet trash bin. She threw the cups away.

He stood up to join her, handed her purse to her, and said, "Is it a book about Muggle born mating habits? Because, I might find that an interesting read. It might explain why they have such poor sex drives." He was trying to provoke her. It was fun.

"You know, Muggles and Muggle borns aren't a different culture than Wizards. We're all human beings, first and foremost," she tried to explain. "Anyhow, don't you remember how I told you I was going to get you a book for the gala?"

"I don't recall that." He took the hand that wasn't holding the package, and started walking with her.

"Yes, remember, I said that we should get each other a book for the gala. Don't you recall?" she simpered.

"Sorry, don't recall," he said plainly. Then he reached in his pocket, and said, "Oh, here, this note is for you."

She opened the folded parchment, and it said: "_Go to the hill that we rolled down."_

Draco asked, "What does it say?"

"It says Draco Malfoy is a prat," she answered. Then she started walking up the hill, and he followed closely behind. As soon as she reached the top of the hill, she saw a plain brown packaged, attached to a large orange balloon. Draco pointed to the balloon and said, "Isn't that your favourite colour?"

"Yes, I believe it is," she said simply.

Draco sat on the ground next to the package, with his feet folded in front of him. She bent down, untied the balloon from the package, and watched it float away, just like the ones from earlier. "It doesn't have anything written on it," she said, more to herself than to him.

"Maybe you should investigate," Draco began, "you know, open it up."

She sat on the ground beside him and opened the package. What she assumed was a book, since it was identical in size and packaging as the one she had for Draco, ended up being just a box, an empty box. She opened the box, and inside the lid was written: "_Did you think this was a book? Seriously? Who would want a book for a present_?" That was all that the note said. There were no other instructions.

Draco leaned over her shoulder and asked, "What does it say?" She handed him the box, knowing full well he knew what it said since he wrote the damn thing. She stood up and started walking back down the hill. He scurried along with her. When she reached the bottom of the hill, Draco said, "The note is right you know. Who would want a book for a present?"

She turned around and faced him, and said, "No one, I guess." She felt rather hurt. Surely all these notes, and instructions, weren't for nothing. There had to be more to it than this, she just didn't know what it was.

Hermione turned to Draco, feeling a little upset, but still sure there was more to all of this than what she could see. She said, "So, you wouldn't want a book, if I bought you one?" She put the book she bought behind her back.

"Maybe if it was a book worth a million galleons, but those are hard to come by," he stated, "but, an ordinary, run of the mill book, no I don't think I would want that."

"I see," she said with a small voice. "If this package contained a book, you wouldn't want it?"

"What do you think?" he asked, coming closer to her. She really looked hurt. He almost felt bad. Almost.

Was this a joke, or a game, or what? She walked to the closest trash bin, opened the lid, to deposit the book she bought Draco on top, when she saw a note written on the underside of the trash bin lid. She put the book down on the ground, and ripped off the note. She unfolded the note and read, it said: _"Don't you dare throw my book away. If you do, you won't get yours. Turn around."_

She turned around, and Draco was standing behind her, holding an identical looking package as the one containing the book she bought him. He said to her, "I'll give you yours, if you give me mine."

"I was going to give it to you at the gala," she explained.

"No, you were going to throw it away," he said.

He started to walk away, and she said, "Wait!" He turned back around, held out his package to her, and she did likewise. They switched packages.

He said, "You go first." She unwrapped the package, removed the string and the plain brown paper. It was a book, but not just any book. It was a copy of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" by L. Frank Baum. It looked to be an early edition, possible from the early 1900's, from when it was first published. It had illustrations, and was in mint condition.

She smiled and looked up at him and said, "This is perfect. Thank you," and she leaned over and kissed his cheek tenderly.

He opened his, and saw it also contained a children's book. It was "Pinocchio" by Italian author Carlo Collodi. It certainly was not an early edition, since the book was originally published in the 1880's, but it was still fairly old. "This Pinocchio chap you kept referring to is the name of a character from a book?" he asked, looking through the pages.

"Yes, it's a story about a marionette made of wood, and he wants to be a real boy, but he's mischievous and has problems with truthfulness, so he can't possibly be a real boy, until he redeems himself, and starts to have a better sense of himself. Oh, and his nose grows when he lies. Sound familiar?" she said.

"Slightly," he smiled. "Good thing my nose doesn't grow with each lie, for I would never be able to fit through doors. However, I have at least redeemed myself, at least to you, so I guess I'm a real boy now." That made her laugh. "Thank you, Granger," he said as he leaned in for a kiss, which she proudly gave him.

"How did you know I was getting you a book?" she asked.

"Truthfully?" he asked.

"I know that will be painful for you, but yes, truthfully. I wouldn't want your nose to grow."

"I had one of my house elves follow you when you left my house today. He told me you went to Flourish and Blotts. I went there, asked them what you bought, and with a little persuasion, and by that I mean 20 galleons, the bloke behind the counter told me you bought me a book. He didn't tell me which one. So, I decided to get you a book as well. Sorry it's not a second edition of "**Hogwarts, a History"**, but I thought you might like this as well," Draco told her.

He sat on the ground again, and started flipping through his book. He said, "All this time it was a story, a children's story. Do you think I'll understand it, since it's a Muggle story?" he asked, looking at her. She thought he was serious at first, but she could see the playfulness in his eyes.

She said, "You might have more trouble with it because it's written for children. It might be too advanced for you." She sat beside him on the ground, but as soon as she sat down, he pushed her over. She sat back up, and he put his arm around her.

"By the way, what happened to Scott?" she suddenly remembered.

"He left to explore other opportunities," Draco said, seriously.

"Liar," she said.

"First, I never said I wasn't a liar. Second, why do I earn that title this time?" he asked her.

"You said you wouldn't fire him," she said.

"No, you told me not to fire him, and I didn't. He actually just got transferred to another department," Draco said.

Hermione asked, "What one?"

"Custodial services, I hear he really likes mopping floors," Draco said, standing up.

Hermione shot up as well and said, "Tell me you're lying now!"

"Of course I'm lying. Listen, I made him an offer he couldn't refuse," Draco said with an air of arrogance.

"Who are you now, the godfather?" Hermione said with a sigh. She knew Draco wouldn't know what that meant. He did look confused, so she said, "Really, what happened to him?"

"Don't worry," Draco was peeved. "Your little boyfriend is fine. I offered him a large cash severance package, which he gladly accepted. Are you happy now? He said something about opening a gay night club, or maybe a bookstore, I can't remember which."

"I hope that's true." Hermione wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. "I want to believe that you wouldn't fire him just because of me."

"I'll tell you this, I told him to take the settlement, or he would probably be fired. Okay. Is my nose growing? No, because I'm telling you the truth. I really couldn't stand to look at him, knowing you two had been intimate, but he was happy to go, and happy to get the money." Draco sat on the bench where they had sat earlier, and put his book beside him. He was staring out into the empty air.

She sat beside him and said, "You know, we only dated like two months."

Draco turned to her and said, "That's about as long as us. That must mean you only had sex like two times, right?"

Hermione slapped his arm, and said, "You and I have had sex more than two times."

"Oh yes, three times. How could I forget?" He rolled his eyes.

She leaned into him, put her hand on his thigh, and said, "We were supposed to have sex tonight, but I had to go on a scavenger hunt instead. Now you'll have to wait until Saturday night, Mister Malfoy."

He grabbed the same hand, put it up to his mouth, kissed it slightly, and said, "Oh no, you wait, my little peach."

She touched his face and said, "Draco, are you going to ask me to marry you on Saturday?"

He stood up, his face became red with anger, and he yelled, "For Merlin's sake, Granger! Leave it alone. Frankly, I don't even want to marry you now, but it I did, maybe I would want it to be a surprise!"

She stood as well, left her book on the ground and said, "It's just that I have enough on my plate right now that I don't want to worry about even one more thing. I want to know what to expect."

"But you shouldn't expect a surprise! That's why it's called a surprise!" he said, and then he actually 'flicked' his middle finger on her forehead.

"Don't flick me, and I don't want any surprises," she cried out.

"Tell you what, Granger," Draco began, "I promise you I won't ask you to marry me on Saturday, are you happy?" He didn't mean it, and he really was glad his nose didn't grow when he lied. He was going to ask her, but no reason for her to worry over it. If he told her he wasn't going to ask, it truly would be a surprise.

She hugged him, and said, "Thank you, Draco, and that doesn't mean I don't want you to never ask me. Let's go to my house. It's not far away, and it's a nice evening for a walk." He agreed and took her hand.

When they arrived at her house, he put his book down on the coffee table, and so did she.

She went into the kitchen for a moment, to check her mail. Then she came back into the living room and sat down on the couch, and he followed suit. "How did you convince your parents to like me?" she asked him.

"I'll be truthful, Granger. They're still not thrilled. I'm glad they were nice to you, but they'll never be overjoyed. I'm expected to marry a pureblood someday, and carry on the pure blood that pumps in my veins. Sorry, that's what they want, not what I want." He took her hand and rubbed the top with his thumb.

She cuddled next to him and put her arm through his. "You're saying that they probably won't ever really accept us?"

"Probably not, I don't care though, and neither should you," he said simply.

He pulled her across his lap, and kissed her gently on the neck. She put her arms around his neck, and held his head to hers, and kissed his mouth. His succulent, tender mouth. He kissed her with passion and fire. He leaned his body down on the couch, with her body on top of his. It dawned on her that he was really a very giving lover. He never expected anything from her, and so far she never really offered. She pushed her body off of his, and just stared at him for a moment.

"Draco, answer a question for me," she said. He pulled her back down, so that they were laying bodies entwined, facing each other, on the small space presented to them on the sofa.

"Ask me anything," he said.

"Do you think I am a good lover?"

"No," he answered.

"That's what I was afraid you would say," she retorted, as she tried to get off the couch. He held on tight.

"You didn't let me finish. I don't think you're a good lover, I think you are a wonderful lover." He really did. He kissed her lips again, and let his fingertips gently glide over her back, like a musician who glides their fingers over the strings of their instrument.

"But, I don't really do anything spectacular. I don't do anything special, to you, if you know what I mean," she said bashfully. He kissed her neck again, and put the knuckle side of his hand against her breasts.

"You mean you don't do a 'Pansy'?" he asked with a smile.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" She smiled back.

"That's what I call it," he told her. "Granger, you do what you want, okay. I'll do what I want. It's all good. The thing is, I've never once been in love, so having sex with you is ten times, no twenty times, better than anything I've ever done before, because I love you. Let's not worry over details. Everything will fall into place. Stop worrying about everything all the time. It's tiring, and quite distracting, especially when I'm trying my best to seduce you." His hands went to the bare skin of her back, under her shirt. He rubbed his hand up and down. She arched instinctively toward him.

He traced the line of her hipbone, down her leg. He put her on her back, as he was up against the back of the sofa. He put his hand under her lightweight sweater, and touched her bra covered breasts. He was kissing her the whole time. Even if this was all there ever was, he could die happy. He knew that.

She started to caress his side, and his stomach, under his shirt. She suddenly stopped, and sat upright. "What?" he asked.

"Oh my goodness!" she yelled, and ran off the couch. He watched her run to her kitchen. 'What in the world?' he wondered.

She came back into the living room, holding a large envelope. It was from a Muggle lawyer. It was about Hermione's father's estate. She saw it when she went through her mail, but never gave it a second thought, but then while they were kissing, something made her think of it, and she went to retrieve the envelope. She sat back on the couch and held the envelope.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's from my father's probate lawyer. It must be regarding his estate. Should I open it?" He nodded to her. She started to open it, but her hands were shaking. He took it from her, and finished opening the envelope. He started to read the contents of the letter. When he was finished, he gave her a sad look.

"What did it say?" she asked.

"Apparently your father's will was changed right before he died. He left everything to Bernice," Draco told her. She felt like her heart dropped to the floor, and someone had stomped the hell out of it. She put her hands to her face, and started to cry. Draco pulled her into his strong embrace, and said, "Truthfully Hermione, do you need your father's money?"

"No."

"Is there anything in that house that you want or need?" he continued.

"No, anything I wanted, he had given to me when my mum died."

"Then, who cares. She's probably going to go to prison, and won't get anything anyway. It will still probably go to you. I know this just puts a damper on everything, and it's like one more thing for you to fret over, but don't let it get to you, alright?" He stroked her hair, and pulled her over to sit on his lap.

She cried that night. She cried because her mum was dead, her dad was dead, and because she felt alone. She cried tears of sorrow, but also tears of joy. She was loved. She had no right to feel alone. She had a man by her side who loved her dearly. She held onto him all night. He wouldn't let her go, even if she wanted. He loved her so. She loved him as well. He kissed the top of her head, and said, "Let's have some dinner, and then go upstairs and do some more of that cuddling thing. I was rather fond of that. We don't have to have sex. We'll have enough sex on Saturday night to fill up a lifetime, not that it will, mind you." He took her hand, and led her to the kitchen, to find something to eat.

It was all really going to be okay.


	22. 22 The Beach

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 22: The Beach:**

The morning sun came blazing into Hermione's window. She could hear Draco moving around downstairs. What time was it? Why was Draco at her house? The morning was just too bright and sunny, in her opinion. She wasn't sure it had a right to be so cheery. It was unseasonably warm, too. In fact, it was almost the perfect day. She heard Draco calling her name. Seriously, what was he doing here? He stayed the night Wednesday night, just cuddling again, and he was here when she got off work on Thursday. But, she knew he went home last night.

"Hermione, its 10:30, get your arse out of bed!" Draco yelled from down the stairs. 10:30!! Hermione had to be at the hotel at noon. She jumped out of bed, and ran to get her shower. She never intended to sleep this late. Thank goodness she packed last night.

After her shower, she ran back into her bedroom, in only a towel, and Draco was making her bed. How very odd. He sat on her freshly made bed and handed her a coffee and a scone. She sat next to him, in her towel, and ate her breakfast. He walked past her and left the room. She smiled. Maybe it really was the perfect day. Silence was no longer awkward between them. It was comfortable. It was like they didn't need to talk. They knew what the other was thinking.

She started to dress, and at that precise moment Draco came back in her room. She threw her towel over herself in a feeble attempt to cover her body. She was not as comfortable with him as she thought. He laughed at her, grabbed the towel, threw it on the floor, and then came up to her nude body, hugged her tight, touched her in a few inappropriate places, and then said, "You're so funny, Granger. I've seen you naked, and I plan on seeing you naked a lot more, especially this weekend, now hurry up, we need to hit the road." He threw her knickers and bra to her and started to leave the room.

As she was putting on her underwear, she said, "What do you mean by 'hit the road'? Aren't we apparating?"

"No, I thought we'd drive. Get your new car out on the open road. We had such a nice trip the last time; I thought we could have a repeat performance," he said as he leaned against her doorframe, admiring her body as she dressed.

"Are you going to go jack off in the woods again?" she joked, buttoning her blouse.

"No need, no need, that's what I have you are for, apple dumpling," he said as he approached her.

"Draco Malfoy, that's a horrible thing to say," she scolded him.

"Fine, I won't call you apple dumpling ever again," he said with a fake yawn.

"I meant saying that I was just for sex!" she yelped.

"And _I meant_, now that we have sex, if that's what you call what we do, I no longer need to jack off. I can just piddle around with you instead." He laughed as he said that.

"Piddle around, I swear. You're an idiot. I know I say it a lot, and usually I don't really mean it, but at this very moment, I mean this, and I say it with the utmost love, but you Draco Malfoy are an idiot." She pointed at him. He rushed up to her, grabbed her around the waist, swung her twice, and threw her on her bed. He jumped on her and put a pillow over her head.

"Apologize now, Granger, or I shall suffocate you," he said. He kept the pillow over her head. She refused to act juvenile, so she remained calm. He thought maybe she had suffocated, since she wasn't moving. He removed the pillow and pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her pulse point and said, "Please apologize. Just because I'm devilishly handsome, doesn't mean I don't have feelings." He kissed the other side of her neck.

"I'm sorry, now let me go, you idiot," she said. He let her go, and she fell backwards on the bed, because he had her in such a tight embrace.

"Are you drunk already this morning, tsk, tsk, how embarrassing for you, Granger," he said, as he offered her his hand to help her up. She hit it away and stood on her on accord.

"If we're driving, we have to leave now," she said, "get my bag."

"Just because I made your bed, doesn't mean I'm your bloody house elf. Get your own bag, and while you're at it, mine is in the living room. Get it as well," he demanded and he walked down the stairs. She grabbed her bag, but when she passed his, she gave it a kick. He was standing there watching her and he snickered, and took her bag from her, and went and got his.

They went out to her garage, and he loaded the bags in the boot end. Hermione started to get in the driver's side, but Malfoy said, "No, I'm driving. You get in the other door."

She looked at him incredulously, got in the car, and said, "You're so strange sometimes, Malfoy. You don't even know how to drive."

"You gave me a lesson. I'm sure I'll do fine," he said, pulling her from the driver's seat.

"One lesson does not a driver make. You don't even have a license, and if you recall, your driving lesson went horribly wrong. It ended with me in tears and you angry. You didn't even know which pedal was the brake, and which was the gas. You didn't even know how to put the key in the ignition!" she spouted.

"Pish, posh, those things aren't important." He pulled her entirely out of the car by this time.

He sat in the driver's side and said, "Get in the car."

"Malfoy, you're not driving this car!" she yelled.

"I bought the damn thing, so I'll drive it if I want!" He was serious.

"You bought my gown for the gala as well; does that mean you'll wear it if you feel like it?" she reasoned.

"If it won't make me look fat, maybe so," he countered. "Now, get it the bloody car, or I'll throw you in the boot." He looked like he meant it.

She leaned against her old car, her arms folded. There was no way she was getting in the car with him.

"Get in!"

"NO!"

"GET IN NOW!"

"You don't know how to drive!"

"I've been practicing!"

"Malfoy, get out of my car, and we'll apparate!"

"Hermione, get the stick out of your arse, and get in the car!"

"NO!"

"So help me, if I have to get out of this car, you will be sorry!" he yelled at her.

"Who are you now, my father?" she mumbled under her breath. He heard her, however. He got out of the car, and pulled her toward the boot. He pulled out his wand, removed their luggage, picked her up, and threw her in the boot! He slammed it shut! He put their luggage on the back seat, started the car and had begun to leave the garage, when he saw a very angry looking Hermione standing in front of the car. She had her wand pointed right at him.

He got out of the car, cursed himself for not realizing that she could apparate out of the boot, put his hands up in defense, and said, "Before you curse me Hermione, I have a confession to make."

"Make it quick, because my wand is itching to curse your arse into oblivion," she said with surprising calm.

"First, I would have let you out of the boot before I got to the end of your drive; Also, I lied to you when I said I couldn't drive. I've been able to drive for years. I just thought it would be fun that first day, when we went to the hotel, for you to drive us, because you seemed so excited. And then, I had to keep up the charade, when you wanted to give me a lesson. I had to be such a bad driver that day, so you wouldn't want to give me another lesson. I'm sorry. Hex me now." He ducked his head and shut his eyes.

"I might have found that story sort of sweet if you hadn't tried to put me in the boot of a car!" she seethed.

He opened his eyes. "I didn't just try to put you in the boot, I actually did put you in, and I told you, I would have let you out evidentially," he reasoned.

"Get back in the car you arse-hole. You can drive, but I seriously think I'm angry with you," she said.

"You think you're angry? You don't know?" he asked as he got in the car.

"No, I know. I'm angry. Shut up and drive." She folded her arms in front of her.

"Put on your seatbelt," he said.

She glared at him, but then did as he asked, and they started the road trip from hell.

They drove for over half an hour, when Draco finally asked, "Are you still angry?" She had her head turned, looking out the window.

"Hermione?" he asked again.

She was ignoring him. He said, "Give me your hand."

"I don't want my hand slobbered on, thank you," she said, without looking at him.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, I just want to hold your hand, not snog it," he said, and he reached over and took her hand. She let him have it, but didn't hold his in return. Her hand felt like a dead fish in his. He finally dropped her hand and sighed.

"Stop being so moody!" he whined.

"Stop being such a prat," Hermione said back.

"Fine, I will if you will," he said.

"Okay."

"Okay."

Hermione said, "It was rather mean to make me cry that day I tried to teach you to drive, especially since you already knew how to drive."

"Being mean is one of my charms," he said with a laugh.

"I don't think you're so charming," she sulked.

"You mean to say that I'm not the Prince Charming to your Cinderella?" he asked, looking a bit hurt.

Hermione said, "You're more like the wicked stepmother."

"You're more like the ugly stepsisters," he said to be mean.

"You think I'm ugly?" she asked with ire.

"You think I'm wicked, so maybe I do," he said with a bite.

"You are wicked," she said.

"Then you are ugly," he said back. Damn, this was becoming a real fight, and Draco didn't want that. Why couldn't he just shut up? Why couldn't she just shut up?

There was an extended silence, which was not comfortable like the silence they shared this morning over coffee and scones. This silence was deadly.

Draco finally said, "See, I knew we would enjoy this little drive to the hotel. I don't know when I've enjoyed your company more, and the conversation is absolutely riveting." He turned to see if she would take the bite he offered, and bite back. She continued to stare out the side window. Now he felt like a cad. Damn her.

He pulled the car over, and said softly, "Hermione, please give me your hand."

She did, which surprised him. He thought he would have to beg and plead. She still had her head turned toward the window, however. He held her hand, and turned it over. He took the fingertips from his other hand and traced the lines on her palm. He put the palm up to his mouth, and gave her hand a kiss. He put the hand back on the seat, but kept it encased in his hand. He started the car again, and started driving the rest of the way to the hotel, holding her hand the whole way. Finally he said, "I am an idiot. You're beautiful. You're not ugly at all, but frankly Hermione, you're smart enough to know that, and not take everything I say to heart."

She looked at him, gave his hand a squeeze, and said, "You're not always wicked. I'm sorry, too."

After fifteen more minutes of relaxing silence, Draco asked Hermione, "So tell me, Granger, what are you most looking forward to about this weekend?"

"The end," she said with a small smile.

"Really?" He was a little surprised. He thought she might say the night he had planned for them.

"Honestly," she said and then sighed. She leaned her head against the headrest and turned to look at him. He unclasped her hand for a moment, to stroke her face. He put his hand on her shoulder, then drew it down her arm, and took her hand again. He couldn't completely read her expression, but he almost thought he saw sorrow, mixed with fear. That must be wrong. He momentarily let go of her hand, to use both hands to turn on the final road to the hotel, and as soon as they turned she reached for his hand again. She needed someone to hold on to right now. He knew that was what it was. He understood. He would let her hold on to him, until the day he died.

They arrived at the hotel a little after 12:00 pm. She said, "Will you check us in, and take in our luggage. I want to take a little walk on the beach before the whole thing starts, you know?"

"Tell you what, you stay here and wait for me, I'll check us in, have them take our luggage upstairs, and I'll join you for the walk, okay?" he said, kissing her cheek. She sat down on a wrought iron bench that was under the portico as her answer. She would wait for him. She would wait for him until the day she died.

Roughly ten minutes later, he returned, grabbed her hand, and led her down the now familiar traverse that they had previously walked down. He was pointing things out to her like, "There's the spot where I first hit you with the grapes," and "There's where you broke my nose, I wonder if my blood is still on the ground." She laughed each time he would point something inane out to her.

"You are the strangest tour guide I've ever had," she said with a laugh.

"Well, you did sign up for the full service tour. That means when we get down to the beach, I'm going to shag you so hard, that you'll be removing sand from all your crevices for years to come," he gleamed.

"Gross," she said.

"Yeah, didn't come out as romantic as I thought it would," he conceded.

Hermione pointed to a tree and said, "Look Malfoy, there's a tree that I am going to hide behind, and then break your nose again."

He laughed and said, "That was a lucky throw that was. Your aim is nowhere near that good. You couldn't hit my nose again if you tried."

"Who said I would throw an apple this time. There are plenty of boulders around here," she said, looking around.

"I'd like to see you try," he said.

"Oh, don't tempt me, Malfoy," she joked.

They finally reached the sea, and both of them took off their shoes, and left them by the path. The seawater was very cold as it lapped around their ankles. "It's so cold," she said. She squealed when a large wave came and splashed her skirt as well as her legs. He lifted her up and carried her over to a rocky inland. He sat her on a large rock, and sat down beside her.

They were sitting side by side on the smooth rock, and Draco said, "This is how it should be. This is how I want it always to be. We should always be this happy and content. We deserve as much." He turned to look at her, and saw the love in her eyes, and he grew warm knowing that her love was for him.

"You know, Draco, this is the real world. This isn't really a fairytale. There's not always a happy ending," Hermione said. "Look at my mum and dad, they were in love, and they were happy, and it ended too soon for them."

Draco turned to her and spoke, "Hermione, you can't live your life pushing away happiness because it might not last. Be happy in the moment. Be happy with what you have. Just be happy, dammit." He didn't say it maliciously. He just said it.

"I want to be happy," she said looking at her knees.

He pushed the hair out of her eyes, and put his hand under her chin, "Well, we can try to be happy, and that's all we can do." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. She turned toward him, and kissed his mouth. He held her as tight as he could. They kissed as if it was their first kiss, and for Hermione, the electricity and the passion she felt almost made it seem like it was the first time again. He parted from her and said, "Have you ever made love outdoors?"

She pushed him, and he fell off the rock. He grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of him and said, "My goodness, you're impatient."

"I'm not having sex on the sand. What about our crevices?" She laughed while peering down at him from her place on top of his body. "Anyway, someone might see."

"The rocks will hide us from their view," he said kissing her neck.

She giggled. It was a very tempting offer, actually very exhilarating. But once again, Hermione Granger let her head overrule her heart and she stood up and took his hand, trying to force him to stand. "I don't think so, perhaps another time."

He stood up only to lift her up. He carried her behind a larger rock formation, and told her, "Time for adventure, Granger!" He set her down on the ground, and lay on top of her. His hands traveled the length of her body. He put both hands up in her hair and kissed her long and softly. He then pulled away and said, "I really am going to make love to you here on the beach." It was a declaration of fact, and he wanted her to know.

He dipped his head and kissed her again. She trembled slightly underneath him. He took his wand, took off his shirt, transfigured in into a blanket, and put it on the ground. He climbed on the 'blanket' and took her hand, and pulled her over to him. He nuzzled her neck, and she shivered again. This time he knew she wasn't cold. He knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He played with the skin on her neck and chest, almost like he was fascinated by it, like it was new to him. He slipped her shirt off her shoulders, and unbuttoned her skirt, then removed it. He removed his slacks. She smelled so sweet and fresh. He took a big sniff. She probably thought he was daft. She skimmed her hands over his bare flesh. He moved to his back, and she was on top now. She was the aggressor, kissing and licking him. He ran one long finger down the strap of her bra on her left shoulder. He took his other hand and undid the clasp in the back. "Release the hounds!" he said in jest, and she covered her mouth to contain her laughter.

He lifted his head, and with his mouth and hand he started to suck and lick and toy with her breasts, first one, and then the other. He wanted her on the bottom again, to have better control, so he rolled over her, so he had her where he wanted her.

She moaned from the ache of wanting him. He drank in that sound, and knew it would undo him. All she could think was that she wanted him to fill her up, fill her whole; mind, body and soul. As he cupped her breast in his mouth, and put his lips to her nipples, he let out a moan that joined her moan in a perfect melodic symphony. She was moving underneath him, so he reached down and stroked her heat with his hand, on the outside of her knickers. He would never ever grow old of this, until his dying day. The way her nipple rolled in his mouth, the feel of her wet heat underneath his hand. He wanted more, much, much more.

He continued to stroke her and massage her with his hand and thumb. He reached down and removed her knickers. He looked up at her suddenly and their gaze met and held for a moment. They said they loved each other without words. He ran a long finger down her hipbone, across her stomach, and to her cleft. He inserted one finger, and she cried out. "So soft," he said, as his mouth left her neck to taste her lips again.

With his finger deep inside, she was close to coming, just from that. She was getting weak from his touch. He bent low between her legs, and twirled his tongue to the place his hand had been. She gasped in pleasure and pain, as he flicked his tongue back and forth. She started calling his name. He continued his torment, even while she actually begged him to end her suffering, and enter her body with his. He tormented her until she screamed. Her orgasm was as strong of one as she had ever had.

Suddenly, without warning, and shocking Draco so much that he at first questioned who she was; Hermione shoved him away from her, and pushed him on his back. He was shocked as well when her hands went down to explore him. Warm hands gliding over his hardness, he arched his back as pleasure overwhelmed him. He looked down at her, and stroked her hair, as she took him full into her mouth. He never had it like this before. This was totally different. He knew he was seriously going to die any moment now. She sucked, and kissed, and licked and when he was at his edge, she stopped and sat down on him, and filled her body with his. He lifted his hips slightly, to get even closer. Draco cried out. He didn't even remember if he cried out anything coherent. He just cried out. He didn't want the end to come, but it was coming so soon. He held her hips, moving her slightly up and down. They were closer at that moment, physically and literally, than they had ever been. Both of them reached their climax at precisely the same moment, and that moment was sheer bliss, pure heaven. She screamed at the exact moment that he did. She screamed his name, and he screamed hers, as every emotion they had ever felt left their bodies in spasms.

She fell down on top of him. She couldn't move if she wanted to. He put his arms around her. He put his hands on her back. Her skin was warm, and she had a fine sheen of perspiration. He turned to his side, so that they were facing each other.

"Wow," he said.

"Yeah," she answered.

They stayed in each other's arms, until she said, "We should get back. Hell, we at least should get dressed." The sat up and got dressed. He transfigured his shirt back into a shirt. She started to walk around the rock formation, and he grabbed her hand.

"I thought we were supposed to cuddle after sex," he laughed as he said.

"In the sand?" she asked, "I already have sand all over me."

"Everywhere? Shall I help you locate it?" He took her hand, and started back toward the hotel. "You know, I think that was the best sex I've ever had, hands down. If you continue to keep me satisfied this way, I won't ever have the need to take a mistress." He put his arm around her shoulder. They reached their shoes, and both sat down to put them on.

"What is a male lover called? A mister?" she asked.

"How they hell would I know?" He laughed at her.

"Well, it's just, if you get a mistress, I want a lover as well," she joked.

"I intend to keep you fully satisfied, so you won't ever need a lover, Missy," he said, and he pinched her arm.

"Stop pinching me, you brute! Why do you constantly pinch me? It really hurts." Hermione slapped his arm.

"I pinch you to make sure you're real, and for your information, you're the brute," he said with a real yawn. "You were absolutely brutal back there in the sand. I do believe we need to find our suite, take a shower, and have a little after sex nap. "

"I believe you can do that if you want, but I really have to get to work. I do believe I will take that shower first," she said, opening the door to the hotel.

"We could speed things up, and just take our showers together," he pointed out.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, and said, "If I recall, our suite has two bathrooms, so co-ed showering is not about to happen."

He shrugged, and pushed the button to the lift. "You can't blame me for trying," he said. "I did get you to have sex on the beach, and I never really thought that would happen."

She also shrugged, and said, "I guess I'm a tart after all."

He laughed and said, "No one says words like 'tart' now a day, Granger," as the lift doors closed.


	23. 23 The Bored Draco Malfoy

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 23: The Bored Draco Malfoy:**

Boredom: A noun that means feeling weary, being dull, the feeling of being bored, also known as tediousness, monotony, tiresomeness, dreariness, and routine. Draco Malfoy was bored. He was so bored, that he was trying to think of every synonym associated with the word, and even that was boring.

Granger came back to the room with him, took her shower, and then left again. 'People to see, things to do' she claimed, but all he thought was, 'Whatever.' While she was busy doing all the little things she had to do in the ballroom, or the kitchen, or out on the patio, she left poor Draco alone in the room to his own devices, and he was not happy, not at all. What good was having a girlfriend if they didn't keep you company when you were bored? She should get her priorities in order and come and entertain him. Sex would be entertaining. Hell, he would even cuddle at the moment, anything to alleviate this utter feeling of despair and tedium that he was now feeling.

He went to get his book she gave him. He decided to bring it along, as a lark. He didn't think he would really read it. He didn't think he would have time. He thought he would be having too much fun to read. Little did he know that he would feel bored enough to pick up his book, let alone read the damn thing. He took the book from his bedside table, (where he placed it when he unpacked) and that was when he noticed the something 'extra' he had placed in the drawer as well. He pulled out the little black box, and opened it to examine the contents inside. He didn't know when he was going to have the chance to ask her, but he was definitely going to ask her to marry him sometime this weekend. He put the little box back in the drawer, put his feet up on the bed, and started to read his book.

His book kept him busy for all of thirty minutes. He was bored of reading. He was bored being bored. He needed entertained.

He soon thought that was a very good idea. Hermione should come entertain him. He would go tell her this. Yes, he was going to go find Granger and tell her to do something with him, so he was no longer bored.

He started out of the suite, and then realized something. He couldn't just go find her, claim he was bored, and expect her to stop what she was doing and entertain him. Well, he could expect it, but it wasn't likely to happen. She would probably make her 'angry Granger' face, and tell him to stop behaving like a child, and that just because he didn't have to work for a living, didn't mean that no one had to work for a living. Damn her. She would be right. Damn.

He got on the lift and decided to go see if she needed any help. That way, she would be grateful, less likely to yell at him, and he would no longer be bored. Capital idea. He asked at the front desk if they knew where Miss Granger was. The answer was no. He went to the ballroom, and none of her staff knew where she was. He went and found the hotel Manager, and asked him if he had seen Granger. The answer, once again, was no. Maybe she dropped off the face of the planet, and didn't have the common courtesy to tell him.

He decided to take this opportunity to talk to the hotel Manager about some last minute details for his plans tonight. There was a 'mystery' item that needed added to the items being raffled, and he decided since Granger was missing in action, it would be a good time to talk to him about this item.

Hermione literally passed Draco, and neither noticed. He was getting on the lift on the top floor, and she was getting off the other lift, at the same time. She wanted to go up to their room, and inscribe the book she gave him. She had always meant for it to be inscribed, she didn't expect to give it to him until the night of the gala, but his little scavenger hunt foiled that plan. She knew he brought the book with him. She saw him unpacking his bag after her shower. He put it in the bedside table. She could only hope that Draco was not in the room at the moment.

She entered the suite quietly, as if stealth was her middle name. It made no difference, as Draco was nowhere in sight. Excellent. She went to their bedroom, and opened up the drawer to the night table. She reached inside to retrieve the book, when something else caught her eye. It was a little black box. Hermione's whole body clinched. Was that a ring? Please, let that be a ring. No, please don't let that be a ring. She both wanted it to be a ring and not be a ring at the same time. She opened the box and inside was indeed a ring. Possibly the prettiest princess cut diamond ring that she had ever seen. It had to be at least two carats. It was surrounded by many little diamonds, and the setting looked to be platinum. There were little diamonds down the sides of the setting. It was exquisite, and without a doubt the prettiest ring she had ever seen, not just possibly. It probably cost more than she made a year.

She took it out of the box, looked around, and tried it on, she couldn't help herself, and it fit perfectly. It drew her to it, like a moth to a flame. She smiled, looked around one more time, then took it off her finger and put it back in the box. She decided not to inscribe the book now. If she did, he would know that she saw the ring. She didn't want to ruin the surprise. She knew that surprising her was important to him. She walked out of the suite, still smiling, and decided to go find Draco and tell him that she loved him.

Hermione came walking into the ballroom in time to see Draco and Jeff shaking hands. Draco even gave him a friendly slap on the arm. She wondered what they were discussing. Draco seemed to be up to something. Maybe it had something to do with her engagement ring.

She walked up to him and he put his hand on her arm, and bent down and kissed her cheek. "Hello, apple muffin," he said.

"I swear the food nicknames have got to stop," she said, rolling her eyes.

"But, you like food," he waned.

"Not for a name." She laughed, and said, "So, what were you and Jeff discussing?"

"Who's Jeff?" Draco was stalling.

"The hotel manager, Jeff," Hermione answered.

"Is that his name? I thought it was John." He was still stalling.

"No, it's Jeff." She felt like she was explaining something to a child.

"Well, it's good to know his name, for future reference, thanks, my little strawberry. Well, I'm sure you're busy, I'll let you get back to work." He almost made his escape, but she caught his arm. Maybe if he hadn't called her another food nickname, he would have gotten away.

Hermione asked, "What were you and Jeff discussing again?"

"Nothing, really," Draco answered.

"It didn't look like nothing." Hermione was certainly interested now.

"Not everything is as it appears," he answered vaguely. He didn't even know what he meant by that.

"Draco…" she started, but he put his hand over her mouth.

"Fine, I'll tell you," Draco said sanguinely, "I can't have any surprises with you, can I?"

Hermione was very quiet. Was he really going to tell her?

Draco said, "I was seeing if he would be available to have an affair with you, since you seemed so adamant about having a lover earlier, but it seems he's gay."

"What?" she almost yelled, "First, Malfoy, he's not gay. Why do you make everyone gay? He's married. Second, why do you always have to joke about things? Sometimes I don't know if you're joking, lying, or telling the truth."

"Good, that'll keep you on your toes," he retorted.

She wasn't satisfied, but decided to leave well enough alone at the moment. She still had work to do. "I still have things to do, so you're going to have to finish entertaining yourself tonight. I don't care if you're bored or not."

"Are you a mind reader now?" he asked. How did she know he was bored?

"No, I guess I just know you better than you think I do. I'm sure you were hoping I could keep your company, but I really can't. Go up to the room and read or something. I don't care what you do; just find something to keep yourself occupied." She turned around and walked out of the ballroom.

He laughed aloud and followed her.

She turned around and pointed to the lifts and said, "Go to our room now!" She was a bossy little thing, wasn't she? He remembered how she used to boss the Boy Wonder and the Weasel around in school. He found that very sexy. Even back then he thought it was sexy. He bowed to her, entered the lifts and went back upstairs.

Around 6:20 pm, Hermione came into the suite. Draco was sitting on the couch, reading his book. She was surprised. He was actually _reading_ his book. She sat next to him, put her head on his shoulder, and yawned. He put one arm around her shoulders for a moment and said, "You know, for a children's book, this is a pretty dark story."

"When it was first written, it wasn't aimed toward children," Hermione explained, "In the first draft, the author actually had Pinocchio die. Then later, his publishers had him re-write the ending, and add more chapters, and change things to be not quite as dark."

He looked at her strangely and thought, 'Does she know everything?' "Are you hungry?" he asked, putting his book down.

"Famished," she answered, curling up on the other end of the sofa.

"Well, dinner awaits you on the balcony." He stood and took her hand.

"But I was just getting comfortable," she whined.

"Food or sofa, your choice," he said. She walked out to the balcony with him. "I knew you would pick food," he chuckled.

She sat opposite him, and said, "This is really nice, Thank you."

As they were eating, he said, "When this is all over, we should go on holiday. What would you consider the perfect holiday?" he asked.

"Well, after this afternoon, I think I've had enough of the beach and sand. I love camping, but I can't see you doing that. Maybe the mountains. That would be nice this time of year, pretty as well. Let's go to the mountains. Or, we could take a cruise," Hermione suggested.

"Wow, you've given me a lot of choices there, Miss Granger," he mused.

"What's your perfect holiday, and please don't mention anything to do with sex," Hermione asked.

"My perfect holiday would be you, me, and lots of sex," he said. She gave him a dirty look and he said, "I'm sorry, but I'm on this truthfulness kick, ever since reading "Pinocchio", so I had to be truthful. Just because you told me not to mention sex, doesn't mean that I could just not mention it, if it's what I would really consider to be the perfect holiday."

She took a drink of wine and said, "Idiot."

"Know-it-all," he remarked back.

"Wanker," she came back with.

"Prude," he countered.

"Twit," she said with a sly smile.

"Tart," he said.

"How can I be a prude and a tart at the same time? That's an oxymoron," Hermione stated.

"What did you call me?" he joked.

"You are an idiot. I'm sorry, but it bears repeating, but you know what? I love you, anyway." Hermione took another drink of wine.

"Good to know," he said, finishing his meal. "Hey Granger, that first night, at the auction, did you feel the same instant attraction for me that I felt for you?"

"I believe I did," she said, pushing her empty plate away from her.

"I thought so," he said smugly.

"When did you feel it?" she asked.

"I felt it before the auction. I felt it when I saw you at my office. You were in the hallway, about to enter the lifts, and you turned around, and I'm not sure if you saw me or not, but I saw you, and even though I knew who you were, I asked Nott your name, and he told me who you were and why you were there," Draco said, and then he continued, "I decided to send you over some items for your auction, and I told my assistant to return my invitation, saying I would be happy to attend."

"I felt it when I went to go get some wine. I saw you get up, and I actually slowed down so that you would catch up with me," she admitted, "and then you made some remark about my being poor, because the drinks were free, and I wanted to throw my drink in your face."

He laughed.

Hermione continued, "Then, when you removed the stain from my dress, and touched the place were the stain had been, I felt like I was actually electrocuted. The chemistry between us was that strong. At least, to me it was."

"I felt the chemistry the strongest when I put your shoe on you. I lifted your leg, and deliberately stroked the back of your calf, before putting your shoe on. Then, I put my hand on your knee to help myself up, but it was really just an excuse to touch you more." Draco smiled as he admitted that part. So did Hermione.

"Yeah, I felt pretty jolted by both of those so called innocent touches," she said.

"When did you know that you loved me?" Draco asked.

"Maybe when you were putting my shoe on me, to be honest." She was suddenly embarrassed and she looked down at her empty plate. "When did you know that you loved me?" She looked back up.

"I fell in love with you when you told me that I shouldn't be smoking, when you saw me out in the alley, before the auction," he admitted.

"Really?" she asked. She expected something more romantic.

"No, not really. I think it was truly when you went to shake my date's hand, and she was rude and wouldn't take your offering, and you kept your hand up in the air, like an idiot I might add, and I just thought, hot damn, I think I'm in love," Draco said, standing. He pulled her to stand in front of him. He took her hand and led her back inside. He stood by the doors and she practically fell into his arms. He hugged her and stroked her hair. "Are you tired?" he asked. If she said yes, then he knew there would be no sex tonight. 'Please say no,' he thought.

"Yes, I am so tired. Can we make an early night of it?" She looked up at him. How could he say no to such a sweet face?

"No," he said.

"No?" she asked back. She didn't expect a 'no'.

"I'm joking," he smiled, "I guess this means no sex tonight?"

"We had sex today on the beach," she pointed out.

"Do you have an inadequate sex drive? Is there something about you I should know?" he asked.

"Seriously, I'm just tired," she said back.

"You could sleep if you want. I don't need you to be awake to have sex with you." He couldn't contain his laughter as he said that sentence.

"You're sick," she said, and she moved from his arms, and made her way over to the bedroom.

"I'm going to stay out here and read some more," he said. He sat down and picked up his book again.

She slipped into the bed, too tired even to get into her pajamas. She just slipped off her skirt and blouse and covered herself with the covers. When Draco came to bed two hours later, he tried to be as quiet as he could. He went into the bathroom, and when he came back out, he was stripped down to his boxers. He pulled back the covers, and climbed in beside her.

She rolled over and put her arm across his chest. He pulled her closer.

"Still awake?" he asked.

"No, woken up," she said softly.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Goodnight, Pinocchio," she mumbled quietly.

"Goodnight, Dorothy," he chimed back.

Hermione held on tight. She wanted to know when he was going to ask her to marry him, but she had the common sense not to ask.

"Hey, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Let's have the best day ever tomorrow. It'll be our first official date, you know," she said, sinking deeper into his arm.

"You still don't consider all those other times as dates?" he asked amused.

"No, the Spring Fling will be our first date, and I want it to be perfect. I'll try very hard not to get snippy, or angry, or to call you an idiot the whole night," she told him.

He smiled, which she couldn't see. "Fine and I'll try not to lie, make crude jokes about sex, and not call any more of your male friends gay."

"That would be wonderful," she answered him.

Draco dipped his head, and captured her mouth with his. She tasted so sweet. She was perfection, and she was right there in his arms. She turned to her side, and he did as well. He teased and nibbled her mouth with his mouth and his lips, and finally she opened her mouth, and he kissed her deeply.

His hand went down her shoulder, to her arm, to her hip, and rested there.

He pushed her back on her back, and put his thigh between her legs. His hand cupped one of her swollen breast, and she whimpered.

She pulled her head from his and said, "Draco, don't hate me, but I really am tired."

"I told you, go ahead and go to sleep," he taunted.

She hit his shoulder. He said, "Fine, you're a tease. Not a tart, not a prude, but a tease, but that's fine. Tomorrow is our first official date, and you promised me sex on our first date, and by golly you better not renege on that promise, or I'll let everyone in the Wizarding World know that Hermione Granger is a Welcher."

"And I'm sure everyone in the Wizarding World will give a damn," she answered back, truly yawning.

He stroked her arm and said, "Go to sleep Cinderella. You have a ball to go to tomorrow, and I have a feeling something nice will happen at midnight." He looked down at her, and she was truly asleep this time. He closed his eyes and went to sleep also.


	24. 24 The Mystery Item

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 24: The Mystery Item:**

Draco reached for Hermione, but she wasn't in bed. He turned to look at the clock. It was almost 7:00 am. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He threw back the covers, and called down to room service, to order some fruit, toast, and tea for breakfast. He put on his black silk robe and went to the bathroom to find Hermione. She wasn't there. He decided to go ahead and get his shower.

He had just finished showering when room service brought up their breakfast. He let them in the suite, and the server set up their breakfast in the dining room. Draco sat down and began to eat, when he really started to wonder where Granger was. She better not be off working this early in the bloody morning. He got up, and something compelled him to look in the other bathroom, off the second bedroom. He walked in the bathroom, without knocking, and there she was, in all her glory, in a big bubble bath. He smiled an evil grin, and realized that she didn't even know he had come in. Her eyes were shut. He took a few steps into the room, and she opened her eyes. At first she was startled, and but then she came to the realization that it was just Malfoy.

"Hi, Pinocchio," she said.

"What are you doing, Dorothy?" he asked, but before he waited for her answer, he said, "Do you know that we just picked out each other's nicknames, and we didn't even realize it?"

"And they have nothing to do with food," she laughed.

"I don't know it I want to be called Pinocchio for the rest of my life," he grimaced.

"Better than Idiot," she pointed out.

"So, taking a bath?" he asked, having decided to ignore the idiot comment.

"See, you're smart, no matter what everyone says about you," she joked.

He took off his robe, slipped off his shorts, and said, "Shut up and scoot over." He didn't care if he had already taken a shower. He wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to take a bath with the woman he loved. He climbed in behind her. "Merlin Sakes, Granger, this water is scalding hot!" he exclaimed.

"You're just cold blooded, remember?" she teased, as she leaned her back against his chest.

He took a large sponge, and started washing her arms and back. It felt so good, so much so that she didn't have the heart to tell him that she had already washed. "I suppose you have all kinds of work to do today. Lot's of last minute details," he began.

"Nope," she said.

"What? You're kidding me, right?" he said, really surprised.

"Draco, I'm the boss. It's called delegating. My staff will see to all the last little details, if there even are any. Today's my day to relax and spend it with my lover."

"Your lover?" he asked. He liked how that sounded, it sounded kind of forbidden. He was Hermione's _lover_.

"Yes, and when he gets here, make your self scarce, okay?" she said with a smile.

Draco made a funny face, and said, "You're no funnier now than you were the day I started dating you. You would have thought some of my wit would have rubbed off on you by now."

She turned her head and said, "Give me a kiss. Maybe I'll give him up for you." He did as commanded, and gave her a long, wet, wonderful kiss.

"Well?" he waited to be judge.

"It's acceptable." Hermione laughed. He splashed her. Bubbles went up her nose and made her gag, and that made him laugh.

"I'm turning into a prune, look at my hands," she said, holding up her wrinkled hands for him to see.

"Why are you allowed to call yourself fruit names, but I'm not?" he asked her. Then in seriousness, he said, "Our breakfast is probably getting cold, maybe we should get out now."

Hermione stood first, and he stood right after. She held onto his hand as she stepped out of the tub. She walked over to the shower, and turned it on, to rinse off the bubbles. When the water was warm, she stepped in and he stepped in with her. They rinsed each other's bodies, and while it was sensual, it wasn't overtly sexual. It was nice and comfortable.

They got out of the shower and put on towels. Together they trotted to the dining room and ate their breakfast.

He excused himself from the table before she did, and went to get dressed. She had moved all of her belongings to the other bedroom that morning. She wanted to get ready for the gala by herself. She didn't want Draco to see her one moment before he was supposed to. As she went to get dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, she wondered when he was going to 'pop' the question. The waiting was agony. She had hoped he would do it in the bath, or maybe at breakfast. Maybe he's going to wait until the gala, or perhaps after.

She screamed out loud in frustration, and said, "Stop it!" to herself. She was fretting over the very thing she didn't want to fret over, and it made her angry. It would happen when it happened.

He came running into her room and said, "Why did you scream? What's wrong?" He looked utterly panicked.

Hermione made up a lie, and she made it up quick, "I saw a spider," she said.

"SO?" he practically yelled.

"It scared me," she lied.

"You face the dark lord, but a spider, oh my, scary," he mocked. "Where is it, I'll slay the mighty spider for my princess, for goodness sakes." He looked around the room.

She had become a better liar, since she had started dating him. He believed her. She didn't know whether to be happy about that, or upset. "I guess it ran away," she answered.

He looked around and saw all her things thrown about the room. "Why are your things in here?"

"I want us to get ready for the gala separately. Be a bit of a surprise, you know?" she answered, biting her bottom lip. She didn't know what he would think of that idea.

"That's great. I want it to be surprise." He smiled and walked back out of the room, just like that. She followed him.

"Who are you? Where is my real boyfriend? That was too easy. I thought you would think it was some plot to not have sex tonight, or something," she said.

"First, remember my promise; no crude sex jokes. Second, remember your promise; mad, passionate, hot, heavy, sexy, sex tonight. Lots of it. Lots of ways." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"I've created a monster, and his name is Draco Malfoy," she said bewildered.

She went back to her new bedroom, grabbed "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" book, went out to the balcony, and sat down in one of the chaise lounges. He followed suit and came out with his book, and sat in the chaise next to her. She eyed him suspiciously at first, figuring that he was up to no good, but when he acted truly interested in his story; she settled back and started to read hers. They read for almost an hour. He got up first, excused himself, and went to his room.

He sat on the bed, and opened the bedside drawer to deposit his book. He took the ring out, and opened the case. Maybe he should just do it now. Get it over with. She was relaxed right now. She was in a good mood right now. She wasn't fretting or worrying about anything right now. When would he ever have Hermione Granger in such a perfect condition ever again? He started to stand, having just made up his mind to go ask her, when she popped her head in the door. He pocketed the ring as fast as he could.

"Harry and Ginny just arrived. They're spending the night here as well; first little holiday without the baby," Hermione explained, "They want to know if we want to have lunch with them in a couple of hours."

He was shell shocked and speechless, as she caught him off guard. Damn Potters! He merely nodded in agreement, and she left and shut his door. He put the ring back in the drawer. He had things under control. There would be plenty of opportunities today.

He stepped back into the living room, and saw that Hermione had changed into a frilly little pink dress. "What the hell?" he asked, although he didn't mean it like it sounded. He saw her face fall from a look of happiness to sorrow in two seconds flat.

"I'm sorry; I just didn't know we were getting dressed for lunch. You really look beautiful," he amended. He walked up and embraced her. "You look so pretty in pink. I just never thought of you as a girly-girl," he finished.

"Yes, well, perhaps you're rubbing off on me, having such a firm grasp on your feminine side," she tried to joke, although she really thought he was making fun. She would go change.

She started back to her room, and he said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm changing back into my jeans," she said, crestfallen.

"No way in hell." He ran up to her, and grabbed her arm. "I want everyone in this whole bloody hotel to see that I'm with the most beautiful woman in the world. Let me go change as well." He ran to his room and changed into a crisp white shirt and grey trousers. He stuck the ring in his pocket, just in case.

When he came back into the outer room, she said, "Well, you clean up nice."

"You can never be too clean or too rich," he said.

She made a funny face and said, "I think the saying is you can never be too thin or too rich."

"I don't know how you Muggle borns say it, but a person definitely can be too thin, you know." He came up and kissed her hand. Now would be the perfect opportunity to kneel down and slip the ring on her finger!

Before he could carry out his thought, turn it from mere thought to action, she said, "Let's not let anything ruin us, Malfoy."

"What could ruin us?" he asked, perplexed.

"Just promise," she said so sweetly. He would promise her anything at the moment.

"I promise," he said.

He held her and they stayed like that for many moments until she said, "I still have to fix my hair. It's not easy to look beautiful, you know."

"It is for me," he said jauntily.

"Well," she began, "you're the exception to every rule."

When Hermione was all dressed and ready, the couple met the Potters downstairs, in the dining room of the hotel. Hermione told Draco she was going to check on things in the ballroom, while they waited for their food. He knew she wouldn't be able to resist meddling in things today. She left the table, walked out of the dining room, and went down the hallway to the ballroom. Her staff was making all the last minute details come to life. The items to be raffled were all place on the long table at the end of the hall. When the raffled item was an actually 'item', it was placed on a gold placemat with a placard explaining what the item was. When the 'item' was a deed or service to be rendered, such as 'win a weekend at the Grand Marsh Hotel,' there was only a placard.

Hermione perused the table, checking on each item. When she reached the very last item, there was only the gold placemat with a placard, and a large envelope, each with a large 'question mark' on them. This was confusing. Among the 'free new top of the line firebolt' and a 'hundred galleons gift certificate to George Weasley shop', was this envelope with a question mark. What did it mean?

She asked several staff members, and they were told that the hotel manager set that last item up himself. She went over to Jeff. He was talking to the chef who was preparing tonight's feast, and she said, "What does that last placard represent, and who donated it? We don't have a listing for it."

He said, "It was donated anonymously, and I have no idea what the winnings are. Apparently there is a concealment charm on the placard itself, and at midnight the package will become the winning item. At least, that's what I was told."

"Who told you that?" Hermione inquired.

"It was all right there in a letter," Jeff explained.

Hermione asked, "May I see that letter?"

"I'm sorry, I no longer have it. I don't know what happened to it."

He started to walk away, and she said, "We must take it down. It might end of being bogus. I can't run that risk." She did not want this to turn into another auction debauchery. She didn't need someone to buy a bunch of raffle tickets for an item that may not even be real, or perhaps it could be worse. What if the item was something gruesome or some type of joke?

Jeff said, "We can't take it down now. We've already sold all of the raffle tickets."

"How could you have done that? The Spring Fling doesn't even start until 6:00 pm, and I doubt any of our guests that arrived early and stayed the night, or any of the ones that have already arrived today would go ahead and buy tickets," she stated.

Hermione looked back at her watch. She should get back to the dining room. She walked back, fully expecting Jeff to remove the item from the table, and never dreaming that he wouldn't.

As she walked back to the dining room, the "mystery" item was weighing heavy on her mind. Who authorized the item? She would have to talk to her staff about it later.

She was silent during most of lunch. Draco bent close to her, and whispered in her ear, "What's wrong."

Suddenly, talking to the whole table, Hermione said aloud, "I just discovered that there's a 'mystery' item being raffled off, and no one knows what it is, because it's under a concealment charm, and no one knows who authorized it. What if this turns out badly? I feel like it's the whole thing with Theo Nott and the auction again. What if someone is setting me up to fail?"

Everyone looked at each other. Harry took a ticket out of his pocket and said, "I bought a raffle ticket for that item earlier, as a lark. I was told by your staff it was the last ticket. I was going to give it to you, but maybe I should keep it, since you're so upset by the damn thing."

Hermione grabbed the ticket from his hand. "For your information, Harry, I'm upset by its sudden appearance, and everyone's apparent lack of information on the bloody thing. I'm going to go remove it!" She stood up and walked out, with her three friends in tow, forgetting about lunch. She said, "I don't care if every one of the tickets was sold. We will just reimburse their money!"

She entered the ballroom, and with determination went up to the envelope with the big question mark on it and tried to remove it, but it wouldn't budge. She took her wand and tried to sever it with a severing charm, but it still wouldn't move. Her assistant Gail came up and said, "When we saw you didn't know about the item, we already tried everything to remove it. Apparently not only does it have a concealment charm, but it's can't be removed either. At least, not until midnight, as the card in front says."

Hermione hadn't seen the card. She picked it up and it said, "Mystery item to be reveal to the winning raffle ticket holder at midnight tonight."

Hermione stomped her foot and turned to her comrades. "This is not going to be good, I have a feeling."

"Maybe you'll win the raffle, and no harm will be done," Draco said.

"Sure, 100 tickets sold, and my one little ticket is going to win." She actually pushed him.

"You have a one in one hundred chances," Harry stated the obvious.

Hermione pushed Harry now and said, "Thank you, Einstein. I couldn't do the math!"

Ginny said, "Hermione, let's go finish our lunch, and then in no time it'll be time for the gala. Come on." She put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and walked her toward the door.

Harry stayed back, and grabbed Malfoy's arm. "Maybe we shouldn't do this Malfoy. It's causing her undo distress. Why not just give her the damn thing."

"Listen, Potter," Draco began, "I appreciate your help with this thing, but I think I know what's best, and as far as Hermione goes, she isn't happy unless she's worrying about something. It'll be fine." Draco didn't tell Potter, but he was having second thoughts as well. He wanted this to be a good day for her. He wanted to have the perfect day in which to propose, but now she was all upset and worried, and it was his fault.

As the two men headed toward the dining room, Harry spoke again, "By the way, Malfoy, you owe me, for all the raffle tickets I bought for your little mystery item."

"Are you serious, Potter?" Draco turned to him. "I know you like to live like a pauper, but I happen to know your wealth almost matches mine, so don't worry about the money, consider it your engagement gift to us." Oh no, Draco had said too much.

Harry pushed Draco up against a wall and said, "You're going to propose to her? When, today? You promised her you wouldn't. Do you know the meaning of being truthful? Sometimes I think all the drama you two cause each other is deserved!" Harry stormed toward the dining room, and Draco followed suit.

After lunch, the couples parted. Hermione and Draco went back upstairs. She was still distracted. He fingered the box in his pocket. Now certainly would not be a good time to ask her. He said, "When we get up to the room, let's change back into our jeans, and take a drive along the coast, until time to get ready for the gala."

"No, I don't want to take a drive," Hermione answered, distracted.

They entered their suite, and Draco said, "Well, what do you want to do?"

"I just want to go to my room and have a lie down," she answered.

"May I come?" he asked. He really thought she might say no. She nodded yes. He followed her. She slipped off her dress, and put her jeans and t-shirt back on. He took off his shoes and pulled his shirt from his slacks. They lay on her bed, in each other's arms.

"I want everything to be perfect tonight," she whispered in his ear.

"It will be," he answered back.

"I don't want any surprise, that's all. I just want to know what's going on, so I have a minimal amount of control at least," she told him, touching his cheek. She wanted to give him an opening to go ahead and ask her to marry him. She wanted him to do it before the gala, so she could relax tonight.

He didn't take the bait.

To his mind, she was telling him, 'I don't want anything unexpected.' Asking her to marry him would be unexpected. He decided right then to wait until tonight, after the gala, to ask her to marry him. If only Hermione knew that.

He said, "I'm not tired, I think I'll read some more of my book. See you tonight, for the gala. I'll pick you up here at your bedroom door at 5:45, okay?" He got up, bent back down and kissed her, dragged his fingers down her arm, ending at her fingers, and then he grasped her hand, which tonight would wear his ring.

He went back to his room, put the ring back in the drawer and opened his book and started to read.

She stayed in her room, thinking about her ring, and wondered when he was going to give it to her.

Around 3:00 pm, Hermione decided to start getting ready for the gala. She felt like Cinderella, getting ready for the ball. She took another shower, fixed her hair and makeup, and then went to retrieve her dress from the closet. She unzipped the dress bag, and pulled out the pretty gown. She put on her new undergarments, and her stockings, which went to her thighs. She put on her dress next. She realized she would need help with the back.

She called down to the boutique, to see if the lady who helped her pick it out could come and help her. While she waited for her to come, she held the dress up to her body, and looked at her reflection. She wanted to look pretty tonight. Draco was going to ask her to marry him tonight, and she wanted it to be a memorable occasion.

The woman knocked on the suite door. She peered around the corner, and yelled, "Stay in your room, Draco, I'll get it." She ran and answered the door.

After the woman left and Hermione had her dress on, she looked at her reflection once more. She thought, 'not bad.'

Her dress was cream and gold. The underlay was a satin cream colour, with a full skirt and a fitted bodice. The neckline was square shape, and low, so that a hint of cleavage could be seen. Under the full skirt were layers of gold tulle crinoline. There was gold embroider netting over the entire skirt. The bodice was held up by thin gold satin straps, and the same gold satin ribbons went along the back of the dress, holding it in place, in place of a zipper or buttons. Around the waist was a similar gold ribbon, which tied in the back. On her feet she wore gold beaded slippers, which matched her gold beaded handbag.

She wore her hair up in the front, but long and curly in the back. She had small tendrils frame her face. She heard a knock on her bedroom door. 'He's early', she thought.

She opened the door, to find Harry and Ginny. Ginny had on a gown of deep forest green. It was beautiful, and Harry had on traditional black dress robes. "Just wanted to say 'hi' before we went down to the ballroom, you look gorgeous!" Ginny said, kissing Hermione's cheek.

Harry took her hand, spun her around once, and said, "That bastard, Malfoy, doesn't deserve someone as pretty as you."

"I'll have you know I certain do deserve her!" a voice from the other doorway said. Draco came up to Hermione. He felt like his throat was closing, and he couldn't breath. That's how beautiful he thought she looked. He immediately wondered, 'will she be this beautiful on our wedding day?' He took her hands, and held them out and said, "Well, well, well. Aren't you a beautiful woman? And to think, you're all mine." He hugged her, being careful not to mess her hair or dress.

Then he said, "You know what, maybe Scarhead's right, for once in his miserable existence. Maybe I don't deserve you." He kissed her cheek.

"You look beautiful, too," she said unabashed. He did too. He had on traditional dress robes as well, but he looked better than she had ever seen him. Maybe it was because he was happier than she had ever seen him.

Harry came up to the couple and said, "Malfoy, may I talk to her for a moment, alone?"

Malfoy was afraid Harry was going to spill the beans about the mystery item, so he said, "I don't think so, Potter. You have your own woman, don't try to steal mine."

"Shut up, Ferret," Harry said, as he gently took Hermione's hand and tried to lead her away from Malfoy. Malfoy held on to her other hand as long as he could, but when she was finally stretched as far as she could go, he was forced to let go of her hand. Harry walked Hermione to her bedroom.

"Really, Harry, calling him ferret; what are you twelve or something?'' she laughed. She really couldn't be angry. She called him worse things on a daily basis.

"It's just that he's such a prat," Harry said.

"Did you bring me in here to discuss Draco's prattiness?" she asked with a smile.

"No, but we can talk about that later if you wish, I have a lot of things to say on the subject," Harry said with a smile. "I just don't want you to worry about things tonight. All I'm going to say is that I actually know what the mystery item is, and I want you to know, it's nothing for you to worry about, so I just wanted you not to worry, and to have a good time tonight."

"How do you know what it is?" she asked.

"Seriously, now you're going to worry about I know, aren't you?" Harry hugged her again, and laughed. "Try to have a good time, okay?" He led her by the hand back to the suite's living room, and took his wife by the hand and said, "Shall we?" The Potters left.

"What did Potter say to you?" Malfoy was curious.

"He just told me to have a good time," she confessed. He didn't need to know the rest.

"Shall we go down to the ball, Cinderella?" he asked, and offered his arm.

"Am I Cinderella, or Dorothy?" she chided.

"Tonight, you're Cinderella," he answered, going into the hall, and pushing the lift's button.

"I just hope I don't turn into a pumpkin at midnight, because you'll bake me in a pie," she jested.

"Not tonight, and who knows, maybe the mystery item will turn into a pumpkin at midnight," he laughed. The doors to the lift opened and they walked in hand in hand. They were going to the gala, but both felt like they were going toward their future as well.


	25. 25 The Gala, AKA the Spring Fling

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 25: The Gala, Also known as The Spring Fling:**

The ballroom sparkled with a thousand colourful lights. Balloons floated above, everywhere, as if by magic, or maybe by good old fashioned helium. There were streamers in yellow, blue, green and fuchsia curled above the heads of the party-goers. The same colour streamers were suspended from one wall to another, creating a colourful canopy above. The floor below had silver stars that sparkled with each step each person took.

The champagne fountain was in the middle of the food table, and although champagne does not come in different colours, for this occasion, the fountain was spouting champagne in every shade of the spectrum. Elegant ice sculptures, which thanks to magic would never melt, anchored each end of the table. There was sophisticated food, along with traditional Muggle carnival food: cotton candy, popcorn, and hotdogs.

The wait staff was dressed in ties and tails, as well as red clown noses. There were acrobatics, jugglers and fortune tellers walking among the elegantly dressed witches and wizards. There was a Ringmaster selling tickets for the items being raffled. The bandstand glittered with the sights and sounds of a full swing band.

Out on the patio, there were Muggle carnival games, with their animated workers bartering passer-bys, trying to draw the next sucker into the game. Husbands were trying to win simple stuff animals for their wives, while lovers were trying to win tokens of their affections for their true loves. There was a query line started at the old fashion photo booth, the type where you put in a coin and you get three pictures in return.

The most attention was being paid at the long raffle table at the far end of the ballroom, where the Ringmaster was vigorously describing each item, and pretty girls dressed as harlequin clowns were collecting galleons for tickets.

All in all, the room looked extravagant. The guests all looked spectacular and Hermione Granger was indeed the darling of the evening. She entered on the arm of Draco Malfoy, and immediately everyone started waving to her and congratulating her. People nodded as she passed, and praised her hard work. The smile did not leave her face. Draco was just as proud. He was proud of Hermione.

At one of the round tables that surrounded the dance floor, Ginny Potter was waving at Hermione and Draco to get their attention. They walked over, and Ginny said, "We saved you seats." Hermione sat down, but Draco said he was going to go get a drink. He leaned down and kissed Hermione's cheek.

Hermione asked Ginny where Harry was, and she said he had been out on the patio for the last fifteen minutes, trying to win a stuffed bear for little James. Harry came in beaming, holding three bears. A yellow one, which he handed to Ginny, a pink one which he handed to Hermione, and a blue one which he said was for James.

Draco came back to the table and Hermione held up her bear and said, "I guess Harry loves me more than you do. He won a stuffed bear for me."

"How much money did you spend trying to win these bears, Potter?" Draco asked.

"That doesn't matter," Harry said. He wasn't about to tell Malfoy that he spent over fifty galleons trying to win three bears that all together wouldn't even cost a quarter of that. Hell, Malfoy was the fool who spent a million galleons on a book he already owned!

"Go win me a bear!" Hermione beamed up at him.

"You already have one, thanks to the saviour of the wizarding world over there," Draco said as he sat down.

"Fine, I'll go win one myself," Hermione said, standing up and heading toward the doors. Draco took his drink and followed her.

"How about this game?" Hermione said pointing at the ring toss.

"What type of games are these? I've never seen them before," Draco said, looking around.

"They are Muggle carnival games," she said.

Draco went and bought ten galleons worth of tickets. He put a ticket on the counter, and the man gave him three rings. He threw the first one, and missed the bottle. He threw the second one, missed again. He threw the third, and decided that Muggle carnival games were stupid.

After twenty more minutes and many more tickets, he finally won her a stupid paper parasol. "That's what you want? I spent forty galleons, and you want a stupid paper parasol?" Draco fumed.

"You spent a million galleons on a book once, so what's the big deal?" Hermione reasoned. She pulled on Draco's arm, and said, "Give me some tickets. I want to try to win you something."

"Are you broke? Go buy your own tickets," he said spitefully.

The man behind one of the booths she had stopped at said, "If this fellow won't give you the money for a ticket, I will give you a free try." He was flirting with Hermione. Draco stared intently at the man.

"How do you even play this game?" Hermione asked, innocently, although Draco thought she said it a little too sexy.

"You throw a dart, and you hit a balloon. Whatever prize is listed behind that balloon, you win," he explained. He handed Hermione a dart, letting his fingertips touch hers.

By this time, Draco was very angry. "Yes, yes, she understands. Here's the fucking ticket for the dart." He laid a ticket on the counter, and took the dart from Hermione, only to hand it right back to her.

She looked at him confused, but she pulled her arm back, let the dart fly, and hit a big yellow balloon. She jumped up and down, squealing, "I won, I won!" The man behind the booth took off the remnants of the balloon, and took a look at what was listed behind.

"It seems you won a rubber snake!" the man said. He handed it to Hermione, and she thanked him.

Hermione laughed at the irony, handed the snake to Draco as they were walking back toward the ballroom, and said, "I won you a snake, how apropos." He took the snake from her, and wrapped it around his neck like a scarf. He looked like he was proud of the cheap little toy.

"I bet these games are rigged so only Muggle-borns can win," he said to her.

"Yes, that's why I won after one chance, and it took you, how many, was it twenty or twenty-five?" she said, stifling a chuckle.

"Let's go get our picture taken," he said, trying to ignore her. They waited for their turn in the photo booth. When it was finally their turn, they walked into the very small space, and drew the curtain closed. Draco sat down and pulled Hermione onto his lap. He whispered, "Did you know it was another one of my fantasies to have sex in a Muggle photo booth?"

She turned in his lap and said, "Good thing for me that this one takes wizard pictures then. Now, put in the coin, and let's make a memory of this night that will last for all time." Draco deposited a coin, and Hermione put his face in her hands, and kissed his lips as the first picture was taken. For the second, he put his hand on the back of her neck, and kissed her right below her ear. For the third, they both turned toward the camera and waved and smiled.

The pictures came out of the slot, and Draco said, "Who gets the pictures?"

Hermione took the pictures, tore off the bottom one, with the smiling, waving, Hermione and Draco, and gave the top two to him. "Here, I'm sure you would rather have the kissing ones." She put her picture in her purse, and he put his in his pocket.

They exited the photo booth, and Draco said, "Let's have a dance, Granger. Make some more memories." He pulled her to the dance floor. As they stood in the middle of the floor, he held out his hand and said, "May I have this dance?" she nodded.

A slow song came on, something romantic and melodic. Hermione put her cheek on his chest, resting it on the soft material of his lapel. Suddenly, he took a small white daisy out of thin air and put it in her hair.

"Where did you get the flower?" she asked, looking up at him, and putting her hand up in her hair to feel the small bud.

"It's a funny little thing called 'magic', Granger, ever heard of it?" he asked as he pulled her closer.

"I wish this night was over," she said softly. She wanted it to be over, so he could propose.

"What?" he asked. He thought she said she wanted the night to be over.

"Nothing," she claimed.

"Hermione," Draco said, cupping her chin and pulling her face up to look at him, "just breathe. Take a deep breath, and try to enjoy yourself. This is a wonderful night, thanks to you." He kissed her lips softly, but longingly.

She sighed.

It was a good thing her face was on his chest, that way, she couldn't see his frown. He was afraid that he had ruined this night for her somehow. Should he wait to propose? She seemed so pensive. If she would just relaxed and not be so uptight, she might be more receptive to a marriage proposal. Asking Hermione Granger to be less uptight was like asking her hair to straighten. It wasn't in her nature.

After the song ended, he demanded, "Win me something else, Granger. I feel short changed. I've given you a million dollar book, a car, a couple of dresses, and now a parasol, and all you've ever given me is a bloody rubber snake."

Hermione was almost hurt by that comment, but the twinkle in his eye relayed his true feelings.

"How about I buy you a couple of raffle tickets?" she said, pulling him over to the raffle table. They started down the aisle, and she would point at different items and say, "how about this?" or "what about that?" He didn't seem interested in anything, until they reached the middle of the table.

"What the bloody fucking hell, Granger!" He picked up a placard that read, 'win a date with Hermione Granger'.

He glared at her, and she said in defense, "Well, you wouldn't let me do a 'win a date with Draco Malfoy', so I decided to do this instead."

"Like a common prostitute! Selling yourself! I won't have it, Granger!" He seemed very angry indeed. He motioned for the Ringmaster, and when the man came over he asked, "How many tickets are left for this item?"

The Ringmaster performed some magic over the item, and said, "It looks like there are 33 chances left."

He gave Hermione a very nasty look and said, "Give me all 33!" to the man. He threw his money down on the table, and a beautiful girl dressed as a clown gave him his tickets and collected the money. Draco looked at Hermione, who was trying to contain her giggle, and said, "I better win this damn thing, Hermione. I won't have you going out with some other bloke, charity or not. You'll be sorry if I don't win."

"What are you going to do, smirk at me?" Hermione challenged. "I swear, making empty threats, anyway, you have a one in three chance to win, and those are pretty good odds." She walked away from him, and couldn't help but look at the very last item again. Draco was still staring at the placard with her name, as if he stared at it long enough, it might vanish.

Harry walked up to Hermione and said, "Still worried about this last item, even after I told you not to worry?"

"I'm more curious than anything else, Harry," she answered, "and I'm still not convinced it won't turn out badly."

"Tell you what," Harry started, "if it turns out to be a fake, which since I already known what it is, I know it won't, but to put your mind at ease, if it does end up being fake, then I'll offer the winner a day with Harry Potter, okay?"

She turned to him, gave him a look like she just ate something bitter and said, "Who in the world would want to win that?" She was sincere.

He said, "Thanks, Hermione. Good to know my friends think so highly of me. You figure something out then." He walked away from her.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said to his retreating figure. Hermione turned to look for Malfoy, and found him back at the buffet table, filling his plate. She came up to him and touched his sleeve. "I thought I lost you," she said, almost with sadness.

He looked down at her, handed his plate to her, and grabbed two more flutes of champagne, and said, "You could never lose me." They walked over to the table, and sat down. Hermione kept taking food off of his plate. He slapped her hand away several times. Finally, after the fifth time, he hit the back of her hand with his fork.

"Ouch, that really hurt," she proclaimed.

"Get your own plate," he said.

"I'm not even hungry," she said, reproachful.

"Sure you're not." He rolled his eyes.

"What time is it?" she asked, looking around nervously.

"About 9:00 pm," he stated.

"The raffle starts at 9:00 pm. Hurry up and finish eating, so we can go find out who wins all the prizes. I'm anxious about that last item," she said, standing, and taking his plate from him, mid-bite, and putting it on a tray of a passing server.

"I was still eating, Granger!" he shouted.

"Come on," she said, ignoring his protest, as she pulled his hand and dragged him to the other side of the ballroom.

They stood next to Ginny and Harry. Draco leaned down and said in Hermione's ear, "I better win that date with Hermione Granger."

She turned to him, and gave him a little slap on the face. "That's not even important now. I better win that mystery item." She turned back around.

They started announcing the winners, and Hermione said, "It'll be a while until either of us find out if we won our items."

"In that case, come here, I want to talk to you." He pulled her slightly away from the throng of people milling around the raffle table. She looked up at him. Surely he wasn't going to ask her to marry him here, in front of all these people. "When the gala is over with, why don't you quit your job at Gringotts? Come and work for me. I'm serious." That wasn't what he was going to say. He was going to blurt out, "Will you marry me', but chickened out once again.

"Are you really serious?" she asked.

"Yes, since Nott left, I don't have anyone to take care of public relations, or charitable donations. He did so poorly at that part of his job anyway, as you know, and you seem perfect for the job," he told her, taking her hand, and leading her yet farther from the crowd.

"Would I have the Vice-President title?" she asked.

"Good to see my sense of humour is finally rubbing off on you," he joked. She gave him a scornful look, so he said, "Sure, why not." He meant it.

"What else do you have to offer, to tempt me to leave my dream job," she asked him, really wanting to know.

"There are too many fringe benefits to even mention," he smiled.

"Such as?" She yearned to know.

"Sex with the boss, whenever you want, jumps to mind," he said with an evil smile.

Hermione smiled as well, but said, "That's not a fringe benefit, that's sexual harassment."

Draco continued, "You would have a larger office, with more than one measly little window, and a staff of your own choosing, as many as you want, and I will double your present salary."

"You don't even know what I make, how can you offer me that?" she asked.

"I've seen the hovel you live in, and the clothes you wear, so I know it can't be much. Maybe I should triple your salary. Hey, you could lie and tell me you make much more than you do, and that way you could really make a lot of money out of this deal," he joked, "and there are yearly bonuses, which correlate with how much sex we have."

She laughed a bit and said, "You know, I don't know if you're joking with me, or if you're serious, but if this is a genuine offer, then I really think I might consider it."

"Really?" he was surprised, "I would love to have you under me, and since I promised you earlier no crude sex jokes, I meant that professionally."

"I'll let you know, Mr. Malfoy. It's a very tempting offer to be sure. Now, let's get back inside. It's probably close to time for our items to be announced." Hermione led him back toward the middle of the ballroom.

They continued to auction off the prizes, one by one. Everyone in the ballroom was either applauding or booing, depending on whether they won or loss the item of their choice. When they got to the 'win a date with Hermione Granger', Draco pinched her arm.

"I'm real already, stop pinching me!" She slapped his hand.

"This time I pinched you as a warning that I had better win, not to see if you are real," he seethed.

The Ringmaster called out the number 33243. Draco looked at his tickets. He won. "AH HA!" he exclaimed, walking toward the front to collect the placard, and then walking up to her, hitting her on the forehead with the placard, and said, "Give me my winnings!" to her.

"I'm right here, idiot," she said with pretend annoyance. She was ecstatic that he won. After a few more items, the Ringmaster announced that the last item to be raffled was the mystery item, which would only reveal itself to the winner, and at exactly midnight. Hermione reached in her purse and took out her ticket. For some reason, she really wanted to win now, and not just because she was afraid of what the item might be.

The Ringmaster called out 49582. Hermione looked at her ticket. She won. She won? SHE WON! She started actually jumping up and down, turned to Draco, grabbed him around his neck and said, "I WON!" He smiled so broadly, that nothing could remove the smile from his face. He wanted to say, 'of course you won', but couldn't yet divulge his duplicity in the matter.

Everyone applauded as Hermione went up to the front of the ballroom, and the Ringmaster handed her the envelope with the question mark. She suddenly had a thought. What if Draco's proposal was in this envelope? That would be so romantic. He could have arranged the whole thing. He has a dubious mind, that's for sure. She looked at him, to see if she could read his thoughts. He seemed mighty pleased that she won the item. She went back over to their table and Draco walked over with her and said, "I guess you just have to wait for midnight, Cinderella." She smiled, thinking she was in on his charade, and propped the envelope up on the table, in a place of honour.

Draco excused himself to go outside to smoke. Hermione took the opportunity to talk to Harry.

"Harry, may I talk to you in private. I really need to run something past you." Harry took her hand. "I have so much weighing on my mind, and I need to talk to you in private." She pulled on his sleeve before he consented, looked around for Draco, didn't see him, and went out to the patio with Harry still in her clutches.

"Harry, I have a confession to make. Malfoy brought a ring with him. I saw it in his nightstand, when I went to go inscribe the book I gave him. It's beautiful, and I'm a nervous wreck thinking about when and if he's going to propose to me. I just can't stand it! You said you knew what the mystery item was. Please, just tell me, is this the way Malfoy is going to propose?" Hermione gasped.

Harry said, "I have a confession also. I know he brought a ring with him. I saw it too. I told him not to ask you this weekend. I told him should keep his word, and wait until the gala is over, but he's such a selfish son of a bitch, that he's going to do whatever he wants."

"Harry, don't talk about him like that," Hermione chafed.

"I'm sorry Hermione, but don't you see what it's doing to you. Between this and the mystery item, it's too much. You aren't even enjoying the evening. If he really wanted to let the spotlight be on you, and not him, he would wait, that's all I'm saying."

"So, this has nothing to do with a marriage proposal?" She was more than disappointed, she was disillusioned too.

Harry simply said, "No, it doesn't."

Hermione could see Harry's point, but she really didn't agree. She wanted that proposal more than she had ever wanted anything. However, she didn't want to act like some lovesick fool, and she also didn't want to ruffle Harry's feathers, so she said, "I know what you are saying, Harry. I wish he had kept his word as well, and that he would just wait to propose. It's not that I don't want a proposal, but there's a time and place for everything, right? And I have been a nervous wreck all day, wondering when he would propose. I was just being silly. You don't have to reveal what the mystery item is now, since I know it's not a proposal, I can relax. I'll wait for the concealment charm to disappear, and then I will know, won't I?"

"Are you disappointed that it's not a proposal? Tell me the truth," Harry inquired.

"No, it's for the best. Maybe he's changed his mind anyway. He's had tons of opportunities to ask me, if he still wanted to ask me. I bet if I went upstairs, I would find the ring still in the bedside drawer. I'm sure he's changed his mind," she said, trying to smile, but feeling like she would cry at any moment.

Harry embraced her, said, "You'll like the item you won, however, so you have that to look forward to, and when the time's right, you'll get your proposal."

"Yes and tonight's not the right time," she said it out loud to convince herself, so she could continue with the evening. Harry left her to go back inside. Hermione left right after him. She needed to find Draco. If she had just turned around, she would have seen him, for he was standing just behind a ticket booth, and he had heard every word the pair spoke.

(*_Everyone should take Draco's advice, and just breathe. There is a happy ending in sight, and Hermione gets her ring.) _


	26. 26 The Book and The Ring

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 26: The Book and The Ring:**

Draco lingered outside for a while longer. He truly felt lightheaded. He took the ring back out of his pocket and stared at it intently. She didn't say she _never_ wanted him to ask her, she just said that she didn't want him to ask tonight. Staring at the ring, for what felt like the millionth time that evening, he cursed the day he laid eyes on Hermione Granger at his office the day she came to solicit for donations for the auction. Damn her.

He remembered how he was walking down the hallway, and he saw a head with curly brown hair bobbing in the opposite direction. He turned to look at her, and she turned to look at him, but didn't really seem to see him. He asked Theo who that girl was, even though he knew the answer.

Draco was fooling himself. He didn't regret seeing her that day. He would never regret one moment spent with her. He still longed to spend the rest of his life with her. He just might have to wait awhile.

He next cursed himself. The damn 'mystery' item idea seemed like a good plan in the beginning, but she had herself all worked up over the whole thing. At first she worried about what it might be, and later expected it to be a proposal.

He then cursed Harry Potter. He sometimes thought he hated him just as much today as he did when they were kids. He didn't need to interfere with Hermione's life. He clinched the ring box in his fist, stuffed his fist back in his pocket, and started back inside. He ran into Ginny Potter.

"Draco, Hermione's looking for you," Ginny told him.

"Well bully for her," Draco said with spite.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm peachy, thanks," he mumbled gruffly.

"Draco, were you planning on asking Hermione to marry you tonight?" Ginny asked him.

"My personal life doesn't concern you or your husband, thank you very much," Draco responded to her question.

Ginny put her hand on his forearm and said, "For your information, I don't agree with my husband on this matter. I think you should ask her to marry you, and you should do it tonight. I think she wants you to do it, whether she'll admit as much or not."

"That's not what I heard her just tell your husband," Draco said sadly.

Ginny said, "I don't know what you overheard Hermione tell Harry, but sometimes people put up walls; you should know that since you're a master wall builder yourself. If she told Harry that she didn't want you to ask her, I think it was just a bit of self-preservation on her part. She's probably afraid of you rejecting her. Just act with your heart, not your head, okay?"

He nodded his head, and said, "Thanks, Ginny." He had never called her by her name before, but she had never given him a reason to before. She was being decent to him, so he owed her as much.

He still didn't know what he was going to do. He decided to go back upstairs, and put the ring away for now. With it in his pocket, it felt like it was burning a hole, not through his pocket, but straight through to his heart. He would put the ring in his room and then go find Hermione.

The band was playing the last song of the evening. The gala was coming to a close. Soon, it would be midnight, and the party would be over. Not very many people remained. Hermione's assistant told her that they had taken in a lot of money, and that she should be proud. She told Gail that it was thanks to the entire staff, and to tell them that she was proud, but of all of them. Gail told her to get some sleep, and she would see to everything. Hermione hugged her and said thanks.

Hermione had been looking for Draco for a while. He seemed to have vanished, as if off the face of the earth. She gave up after an hour, and since it was almost midnight, she decided to go back to her table and wait to see what the mystery item would turn out to be. Harry and Ginny had already gone to bed, so she was at the table by herself. She felt someone touch her shoulder.

She turned her head upwards and saw Draco. "Let's dance one last dance," he requested. She took his hand and he led her to the dance floor, where they were joined by two other couples.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked.

"Nowhere specifically," Draco said.

"Well, try to be specific, and tell me," she asked again.

"No, I don't think so," Draco said, but not with even a trace of anger in his voice.

She tucked her head under his chin, and put her arms tight around his waist.

"Are your alright?" Draco asked, kissing the top of her head.

"Yes, are you?" She looked up at him.

"Not really," he answered truthfully.

"Really? Me either," she admitted as well.

He looked at her bewildered, and said, "We'll both be fine, just as soon as this day is over and done." It was a statement of fact.

Draco's head was still spinning from everything he had heard from Harry and Hermione, and then from what Ginny had told him. He heard every word they all said, and his only response to it all was damn, Damn, and bloody DAMN! Yes, that was what was going on inside Draco Malfoy. Outside, he was the picture of composure. He would remain aloof. He would keep his head up, and act as if none of this mattered in the least. He was a Malfoy after all. He must remain dignified.

She could feel his anxiety. She didn't know what had suddenly happened to cause him such distress, but his body was stiff, his gaze averted, and his grasp on her tight, but not warm and inviting in any way, shape or form.

"Draco?" she asked.

"WHAT?" he said curtly.

"Never mind," she said again. She wanted to ask him what was wrong. She wanted to ask him why he was suddenly so upset. She really wanted to ask him if he ever intended to ask her to marry him. Instead, she remained quiet. She suddenly stopped moving to the music. He did as well. He looked down at her, and she looked up at him.

"I can't do this, Hermione," and he left her alone on the dance floor, and retreated to a place she knew not.

What did she do wrong?

Why was he angry with her?

She went outside. She looked everywhere for him. She felt like she was spending her whole evening looking for Draco. She sat down on a chair on the patio, and put her head on the nearby table, when she heard two passing voices, both whom seemed to be discussing Hermione and Draco.

"I can't believe they're dating either, they're such an unlikely pair," said the first voice.

"And didn't you say you went to school with them?" the second voice said.

"Yes, I was a year behind them, and believe me, there was no love loss between them. He was terrible to her in school. He would call her Mudblood every chance he got."

"That's awful. Why would she date him now?"

"I know millions of reasons, and they're all sitting in a vault at Gringotts."

"That's not nice."

"Well, why else would she date him? She was always smart, and that's the smart thing to do."

"In a way," the second voice said, "I don't see what he sees in her. She's pretty and all, but he could do better."

The voices soon faded away. Hermione didn't lift her head yet, but now it was because she was crying. Did people really think she only dated Draco for his money? And was it really so hard for people to believe that someone like him would love someone like her? She stood from the chair, and started down the dark, but now familiar pathway, that would take her from the hotel to the beach below. She knew it was probably after midnight. She would miss seeing what the mystery item she won was. The enchantment would have lifted by now. She didn't care. At this point, she didn't care about anything. She just really wanted this day to be done. She started to run.

Draco came outside in time to see Hermione running down the dark path. He started to follow, at first just walking briskly, but as she started to run faster, so did he. Did she even know he was following her? He started to call out her name. At one point she fell, and he was still a short distance from her, but before he could see if she was hurt, she stood and continued her sprint.

The path was rocky and slippery even during the day. At night it was absolutely treacherous. He called her name twice more and she never turned and acknowledged him once. It was a chilly evening, but Draco was warm, from adrenalin and anger. Where the hell was she going?

He temporarily lost sight of her. He stopped in the middle of the path and looked around. He called her name once more. "HERMIONE!" Should he continue down to the shore, or go back up to the hotel, and get some help? He decided to continue on his journey, but he didn't get far. He saw her huddled under a tree, in a heap, on the cold hard ground. He ran up to her, and for a moment didn't even speak. He could tell she had been crying. When she looked up at him, he could see her tear soaked face in the bright glare of the moon. He kneeled beside her, and without touching her, he said, "Hermione, you had me worried. What's wrong?"

She still didn't speak. She averted her eyes from him, and then she sprang up suddenly, knocked him over, and continued her jog to the sea. Now he sat on the cold ground, and screamed out of frustration. He struggled to stand, and when he finally got to his feet, he continued after her. When he reached the beach, he saw her on the very rock that they had sat on together yesterday. Was that just yesterday? It seemed like it was a lifetime ago.

This time he stood behind her, but put his hand on her back. He wasn't going to let her get away this time.

Before he could ask her again what was wrong, she asked, "Do you think I only love you for your money?"

He was confused. "Did I ever say that I did?" He thought she was accusing him of something, and he felt the sudden need to defend himself.

"No, but apparently that's what everyone else thinks," she said quietly.

"Hermione," he said, out of breath, "what the hell is going on?"

"Why did you leave me on the dance floor?" she asked. She still couldn't look at him.

"Can we stick to one subject at a time, please?" he said smugly. "Now, tell me who said that you only love me for my money?" He sat down beside her, facing the opposite direction. They would almost be facing, if she was not looking at the ground.

"I overheard two women say that we made an unlikely pair, and that I must only love you for your money, and they couldn't even come up with a valid reason why you would love me." Her shoulders started heaving up and down. She was crying again.

He reached his right arm across the front of her body, and pulled her to his chest. "Are you only interested in me for my money?" he asked. She kept her head against his body, but shook her head no. "So who cares what a couple of stupid bitches think?"

She looked at him, and he now had both his arms around her. "Why are you interested in me?" she asked.

He stood up suddenly, so suddenly that she almost fell off the rock. "Damn, Hermione!" he yelled. "Why do I constantly have to tell you this? There are too many reasons to mention, but I shouldn't have to mention them, because by now you should know what they are. I love you, and that's enough said."

She stood as well. She made quite a sight. Gone was the beautiful fairy princess from the start of the evening. Before him stood a woman with a ripped dress, smudged makeup, and hair in every direction, and yet he still found her stunning.

She plucked up every ounce of courage she had and said, "Draco, were you planning on asking me to marry you tonight?"

He stared at her hard and long. He wanted to say, 'why do you care?', but he also wanted to be truthful. He ached in the depths of his soul to tell her the truth. Instead, he said, "I told you I wouldn't."

"And we all know you never lie," Hermione seethed.

Draco was beyond all reason when he yelled, "Granger, leave the whole bloody thing alone! What difference does it make if I was going to ask you or not? You probably would have said no anyway."

"It makes a difference to me," she said softly.

"Why?" he inquired just as softly, as he stood almost next to her.

"Because, I wanted you to ask." There, she said it. "So I guess I'm just a bloody, romantic fool. I wanted the mystery item to turn into a marriage proposal. I can't help it, that's what I really wanted, but once again, I'm the fool. I'm the one that misunderstood everything." She started to walk away from him, but he put his body in front of her to block her way.

She took a step to her right, and he stepped to his left, so that he was still in front of her. She took a step to the left, and he went to the right. She put her arms out in front of her, and pushed him away. He put his arms out and pushed her back.

"You said you didn't want a marriage proposal," he said with scorn.

"Well, I guess I'm becoming a better liar than you thought. You must be rubbing off on me," she said with sarcasm.

This time, when she tried to pass, he let her. She hung her head in defeat. He sat back down on the rock and let her walk up the path alone. He didn't know what she wanted from him. Ginny Potter was right though, Hermione had a lot of walls up, and she didn't always say what she meant.

She walked into the hotel, and up to their suite. Draco was directly behind her, by only a few minutes. But, instead of going to their suite, he went back to the now almost empty ballroom.

The overhead lights were on now, and the magic was all but gone. The place looked messy and ugly and represented all that had gone wrong with the evening. He went to the table where they had sat, and picked up her winning item, which by now, since it was after midnight, the charm was gone. Revealed was the true item to all who would care to see. He picked up the copy of "**Hogwarts, a History"**, second edition, which he had planted for her to win exclusively. He went through a lot to get the damn book back for her, and she didn't even know. He picked up the book and left the ballroom to go upstairs to their suite.

Hermione was sitting on the bed in Draco's room when he walked in the door. She had opened the bedside table, and was holding the small black velvet box, which contained her ring. When he entered, she looked at him with not even a stitch of guilt on her face. He threw the book on the dresser and said, "My, oh my, what a little sneak you've become. You're right; I'm rubbing off on you." He held out his hand for her to hand him the box. Instead, she threw it at his chest, where it hit him hard and landed on the floor. He didn't even bend down to pick it up.

"That wasn't nice," he said somberly.

She didn't know what to say. She stood from the bed, and tried to pass him, but he pushed her roughly back down on the bed.

"How did you know there was a ring in that drawer, Granger?" he asked, although he already knew, since he heard her tell Harry. He wanted to see if she would be truthful with him.

"I saw it earlier today, when I went to get your book to inscribe it to you," she said. She was afraid to try to stand back up; he would probably just push her back down.

"Were you going to tell me you saw it?" He sat next to her, not as angry as before, since she was truthful to him.

"I was afraid to," she admitted, "because the last time I asked you if you were going to marry me, we had a big fight, you know. You said I ruined the element of surprise. I didn't want to do that to you again. I wanted you to be able to surprise me, if you wanted to; although I guess the surprise was on me, since you never asked me anyway."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said.

"So, were you? You know, going to ask me?" she quizzed with a small voice.

Draco said, "I was going to, but my plans changed."

"Why?" she asked.

"I overheard you and Harry talking earlier on the patio. You told him it wasn't the right time to ask you."

"You had a full evening in which to ask me, before you were eavesdropping, so why didn't you ask earlier?" she inquired.

"I wanted to several times, but I just didn't," he told her.

"Why? Did you change your mind? Do you not want to marry me now?" she asked him, looking directly in his eyes.

Without answering he said, "Why did you come up here to see if the ring was in the drawer?"

"I thought if it was still there, that meant you had never planned on asking me. Which, I guess I was right. The ring's still here and you won't answer my question, about whether you've changed your mind. It's fine. I don't care." She stood to leave. He grabbed her dress to pull her back.

Draco said to her, "Let me get this straight, Granger, you've become a liar, a snoop, and a sneak, all in the matter of twenty-four hours. Impressive."

She slapped his hand to release it from her dress. He stood up and pushed her again.

"Stop pushing me!" She pushed him as hard as she could, and as he was falling back on the bed, he grabbed the skirt of her dress again, and ripped it further from when she had torn it earlier. He kept pulling on the skirt until she was down on the bed, practically on top of him. He held her by the waist, tightly, so she couldn't escape. She yelled, "Why did you decide to not ask me?"

"Why would I want to marry someone like you?" He said it to be mean, but as soon as he said it, he regretted it terribly, because she put her hands up to her face and started to cry.

His hold on her relaxed some and she looked at him, and through her tears and she said, "Who's the liar, now?" He released her all together, she finally stood, and was going to walk past him, when for some odd reason he pulled her back down again.

"Please, Hermione," he said to her, "please enlighten me. Why are you really upset with me? Is it because I decided not to ask you to marry me after all? Or is it because I went against your original wishes and was going to ask you anyway? It's so hard to keep up with you sometimes." He didn't say it with malevolence or cruelty. He just needed to know.

"I'm not angry, but heaven knows I wish I knew why you were." She was tired as she said this, and fell back completely on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for his reply.

"You asked who's lying now, well, I say you are. You're angry, and I demand to know why," he said, this time with more force. He joined her down on the bed. He was propped up on his side. He put his hand on her stomach so she couldn't escape, and also because he really needed to touch her again.

"I'm really not angry. I'm just tired. So tired, and I missed the reveal of my mystery item, which has me rather peeved." She turned her head to look at him, and he laughed. He stood up, went to the dresser, and threw the book at her. He then bent down and picked the ring box up off the floor, and put it back in the bedside drawer.

"How did you get the book back?" she asked while sitting up.

"That's your prize for the winning raffle ticket. When Scott, the wanker, revealed to me, under duress, that he was the one who originally bought the book from you, I convinced him to sell it back to me. That's why he wouldn't sell it back to you that night you went to go see him. He'd already sold it to me."

"I hope you didn't pay a million galleons for it this time," she said with a small smile. She didn't even realize she was actually hugging the book, but it was an action not lost on Draco. Just to see her happy with the book made some of tonight worth the hell they had gone through.

"So, are we all right?" He sat next to her again.

"Yes, we're fine, and I was never really angry," she said back. "I was terribly disappointed, but not angry, and I'm disappointed in myself, not in you. The fact that I had unrealistic expectations isn't your fault, it's mine. You know, I really did think the mystery item was going to be your proposal, but the book's better."

"You're daft," he said. "You seriously think this is better?"

"I do for now, yes," she answered.

Draco then said, "Hey, I just had a thought. Stupid Scott is now a wealthy young man, thanks to me. With the money from the book, and the money from the severance package, you might want to reconsider your thoughts on him now. He's quite a wealthy young fellow. He might take you back."

"Money isn't everything," she said, standing to walk out of his room, still holding onto the book for dear life. At the moment, she thought it was all she would have from him. She couldn't let it go. She crossed the living room, to head to her bedroom, when he stopped her yet again.

With his hand on her arm, he said, "By the way, I won. I've officially given you the book more times than you've given it to me. And I only have one request, don't sell it, give it away, burn it, destroy it, bury it, hide it, lose it, spit on it, get it wet, or anything else I might have forgotten to mention. Do you understand these simple instructions?"

"Yes," she said, "and, thank you."

"For the book?" he asked.

"For the book and for a wonderful first date," she said with pure joy on her face.

"You must have had some rotten first dates before," he retorted. "How does this classify as a good first date?"

She sighed and said, "Compared to all of our 'undates', this went exceptionally well, don't you think? We didn't get food poisoning, there were no broken bones, no one died, we didn't end up in a gay bar, you didn't go to jail, we didn't have a knock down drag out fight, just a mild argument, so yes, this was a good first date, for us that is."

"When you put it like that, I have to agree, but I can think of one way to make it even better." He took the book from her hands, threw it on the couch, grabbed her left hand, got down on his knees, pulled out her ring, and said, "Marry me, Granger."

"I saw you put the ring back in the drawer!" she said disbelieving.

"I will say this only once more, so try to wrap your mind around the concept, but IT IS CALL MAGIC!" He slipped the ring on her fourth finger.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked.

He stood up and took her by the shoulders and said, "If I didn't love you so much, I swear I would strangle you right now. Stop over-analyzing things. Just answer my bloody question."

"Yes, I would love to marry you," she said, and then she smiled, jumped up and down, and then jumped into his eagerly awaiting arms.

Draco said, "By god, if an engagement ring doesn't get me some sex tonight, I don't know what will!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "What happened to your 'no crude sex' remarks?"

"It's a new day. It's after midnight. I remember that promise vividly and accurately, and it was good for only one day," he laughed.

Hermione said, "Then by all means, make all the sex jokes you want."

He wrapped his arms around her and said, "No joke, but if you recall, you once promised me sex on our first date. Maybe we should live out my fantasy. I bet the photo booth is still in the ballroom."

She shook her head and said, "Not likely."

"How about on the lifts?" he suggested.

"It would have to be quick, which I'm sure you could accommodate, but still, I say no," she said. He put his hands up to his heart, as if she wounded him.

"How about near the ring toss game? It holds happy memories," he said playfully.

"Not hardly," she answered.

"You know you're no fun, don't you?" he told her. "But, I know all of your shortcomings and somehow I still love you. Will you at least kiss me? I did just ask you to marry me."

"But of course," she said, coming to him. He pulled her closer and held her tight. His mouth met hers. It was a soft kiss. It was as if he was kissing her for the first time. He felt that stimulating electricity that passed through them the first time they kissed. She felt he was the prize to an overly long journey. He felt she was his completion. He pushed away from her for a moment, and he knew in his heart that her lips were the only ones he would ever need again. Then he pinched her arm. Hard.

"OUCH! Are you still angry about something?" she asked.

"No, this time it was to make sure you were real again," he said. He pulled her to his room. "Now, let's have some amazing make up sex, or first date sex, or 'thank goodness we are finally engaged' sex. The point is, let's just go have sex."

"No," she said as she pulled away from him.

"WHAT? Granger, you are slowly, and I am sure deliberately, killing me, and I'm sure it is for my money!" He put his hands in his hair, in frustration.

"I just meant I don't want to have sex," she tried to explained, "I want to go make love."

"Even better!" He picked her up and carried her to his room.


	27. 27 The Day of Love

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 27: The Day of Love**

He had physically wanted her the first moment he saw her at the auction, so many weeks ago, but it was the love he felt for her that kept him alive, more than the physical want. He slid his arms around her neck, across her back, and bent his head to find her waiting and wanting mouth, Hermione's mouth. Always there for him, with lips so red and warm that he grew hard just thinking about them. He had longed for this type of closeness for years, the tangled limbs, the wet kisses, the welcomed desires.

In his passion, he wasn't even aware if they walked to the bed, or if he carried her. He wanted to memorize ever part of her body, from the turn of her hip, to the thrust of her breasts, to the valley of her flat stomach, the roundness of her buttocks, and every part in between.

Somehow time stopped, and she wasn't aware of anything but of that moment. They had undressed, and fallen to the bed, and yet she only remembered kissing him, touching him, caressing him. Nothing else was real. Only he was real. Her arms and legs were around him, and he gave himself to her, to the softness of her body, and the warmth of her heart.

His body was long and hard against hers. He was stunning to her. He lay on his back, and pulled her down to him. Leaning over him, she kissed him full and wet on the mouth. She put one of her hands feathery soft down his stomach, and rested it on his groin. Without moving her hand, just resting it there, he had grown bigger and harder than he had ever remembered being. He pushed her back to her back, and played with her breasts. He loved her breasts. He felt they belonged as much to him as they did to her. The pleasure she felt when he touched, kissed, or sucked on her breasts, was nothing, he was sure, to what he felt when he did it. He put one red ripe bud in his mouth, and gently sucked it between his teeth. Her nipples immediately harden and came to luscious points. He pulled at her bottom, as he played with her breasts.

Suddenly, she felt his lips come to her ear, and he tickled her earlobe as he said, "tonight and always." That's all he said. She knew what he meant. She put her hand once more on his swollen member, and he drew in a deep ragged breath as she cupped him with her palm. Their tongues licked and tasted each other everywhere. Her regular strokes on his member caused him to want her even more. He actually growled, took her hand, and said, "Stop." If she didn't stop soon, he would not recover. Tonight wasn't going to be some flash in the pan; tonight was going to last.

He continued to palm her breasts, as his mouth traveled the length of her. He burned her with his touch. His fingers found the spot between her legs, and as she stroked him, and he began to push his fingers in her, they almost came together, just from their mutual manipulations. He removed his hand, and got up on his knees. He pulled her whole body down toward him.

Placing her legs over his shoulders, and putting two pillows under her hips, he placed his mouth on her, to seek his ultimate prize. He reveled in the smell and taste of her. His tongue did things that she had never imagined possible. She almost cried out in pleasure. Actual tears of joy. She came suddenly and harder than she had ever come before. Her legs struggled to remain still, as she felt her orgasm travel from the center of her, down to her toes. Hermione quivered so violently, that he put both his hands on her stomach for a moment, in which to calm her.

He removed the pillows, but before she could recover, he re-entered her with his fingers, first one, and then another. She didn't think she could convalesce from her first climax, but she was wrong, for another wave was not far behind.

He sensed that she was again on the verge, and he was long past his ability to hold on any longer. He quickly move to his back again, and pulled her down on top of him. With his hands on her waist, he moved her up and down. They remained in this position for just a little while, when he suddenly pulled her up, until he had parted from her once more, and put her again on her back. He was torturing her. This time, with her legs again thrown up on his chest and over his shoulders, he thrust himself into her as far and deep as he could. She was physically uncomfortable, but that seemed to be overshadowed by the need to meet his fury.

He pulled out a third time. His hardness would only remain perhaps for a few moments longer. He flipped her over so she was on her knees and arms, he bent her at the waist, put one had under her, to prop her up, and entered her vagina from behind. In this position, with her up against his desire, he could bring her to another climax, he was sure. He let the hand on her stomach go between her legs. His other hand was sprayed out on her back. He felt his knees hurt and the muscles in his legs burned. She started to cry out again. She cried out his name. He could wait no longer. Her ecstasy only served to bring him off harder than ever. He drove himself in deeper still, for one last second. She was breathing short little shallow breaths, and he almost forgot how to breathe. Finally, his spasms tore through his body, at an alarming rate and intensity. He had no thought at that moment. He just was what he was.

As she struggled to come down from her orgasm, he almost fell on top of her. He could not move. She moved to lay flat on her stomach, and he found the strength to move off her. He moved to his side, and draped his leg and arm around her still quivering frame.

He could get used to this, he truly could. Each time he had sex with her was better than the last. Was this how it would always be? He could only hope. He finally found more strength to bring her body next to his. He started to kiss her again, all over her face, as she rained kisses all over his face as well. Her warmth was something he had been missing all the days of his life, and he never intended to be without it again. He stroked her forehead, and then her cheek. Why had sex never been this good before? Did loving someone really make that big of a difference? That was the only conclusion he could make.

"I love you," he managed to say.

"I love you," she said in return. She never wanted things to change. She wanted to love him this way for the rest of her life. She thought to herself that making love to someone, whom you really loved, was so much better than just having sex. It really did make a difference. Unknown to her, he had just reached the same conclusion.

He went to his back, and put his arm around her body. She rested her head on his chest, with her arm around his waist. They both happily welcomed sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning, Sunday, Draco woke first. He showered and dressed and went down to get some breakfast. He thought that she deserved a sleep late. When he came back up to the room, he saw the patio door was opened. She was awake, apparently showered, but not yet dressed. She was leaning against the balcony, wearing only a robe. He crept quietly up behind her, and when he was just a handbreadth away, she said, without turning around, "Don't ever become a spy. I heard you come in the suite, and I saw the cast of your shadow on the floor."

She spun around and he pulled her close. She leaned into him, and felt his warm body radiate heat to hers. He put one hand on her neck, and bent his face to her face and applied pressure to her lips with his. She immediately moved her mouth against his. She opened her mouth, to accept his kiss deeper. He moved his other hand in a circular caress on her back, as if he was fascinated with the feel of the fabric of her robe. She didn't say a word, so he took her silence as compliance and continued.

Draco moved his mouth to the tender spot on her neck, which he knew was sensitive. Her body jumped slightly, and she clung to him tighter than before. As his mouth moved down her neck, her hands seemed to suddenly come to life, and moved to his hair, and pushed his head lower. He pushed the robe slightly off her shoulder, but the sash at her waist kept it mildly in place.

His lips lingered for a moment at the base of her neck, near her collarbone. Eventually he moved his mouth lower, and kissed the swell of her left breast. Suddenly he lifted his face and looked at her. He just looked at her. He noticed how the brown in her eyes were specked with gold and green. He noticed several small freckles on her nose. She had long dark eyelashes, which curled at the edges. She smiled. He loved her smile.

She took their moment apart to look at him. His eyes, which she had always assumed were cold as steel, because they were grey, she now considered warm and inviting, like a warm summer day. His hair was the color of winter wheat. He had such fine features, but masculine. Like a Greek statue, or a painting by an Italian master.

He felt compelled to touch her eyelashes. He brushed his fingertip across them, and said, "Make a wish," when he saw that he had one stuck on the tip of his finger. He watched her mouth form a small circle and a small breath expelled from the recesses of her lungs as she blew the eyelash away, and he thought that she had a mouth made for kissing. It was a beautiful mouth.

She put the back of her hand against his warm cheek. She could look at him all day. She stared at his tender mouth, which was slightly opened. She felt a tingle in her belly, just thinking about those talented lips, and the things they could do. A blush came over her cheeks, which she was not aware of, until Draco said, "You're blushing. Are you thinking dirty thoughts?" She smiled again, leaned into him, and kissed the lips she had just been admiring.

Their lips fit together perfectly, as if they were once one single piece, which had broken, and now brought back together to fit perfectly. He felt like she drained him of all thought and reason, just with her kiss. He was already hard; he had been just from looking at her when he first entered the suite.

He pushed the robe all the way off her shoulders. It was bunched at her waist, still suspended by the sash. Did she realize they were outside on the patio? How far would she let him go?

She was painful aware that they were on the patio. She knew someone could possibly see. It felt exhilarating to do something so unlike her, out of character. She put her mouth in his hair, as his mouth went to her breasts. He fell upon his knees, and she pulled his chin up to look at her. She came down too, and was level with him. He pushed her down the rest of the way, onto the cold floor of the patio. At least no one could see them now, she reasoned.

He passed his fingers lightly down the center of her body. He pulled on the damn sash, but it had a knot. It took both of his hands to untie, and he mumbled an obscenity. She laughed. "I bet you tied it in a knot to torture me," he said to her, as he finally got it untied. He pushed the robe completely open, and again lowered his head to her breasts. He could feel her chest rise and fall, with each breath she took.

Her hands were still in his hair, and on his neck. She started to unbutton his shirt, and she removed it from his strong shoulders. She sprinkled kisses on his neck and shoulders, while he kissed her elsewhere.

He grazed one of her nipples with his teeth, and immediately felt the tips of her breasts harden. He sucked, and kissed, and when he had his fill, he reached down and removed his slacks. He took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and entered her slowly, as if it was rehearsed.

Hermione put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him up and then pulled him back, showing him the rhythm that she wanted, and he obliged. He had a very determined look on his face, his eyes being half-closed, and he almost looked like he was in pain. She shut her eyes again, and gave into the pleasure of his hard muscular body against her soft supple flesh.

When their spontaneous lovemaking abated, she got up immediately.

"No cuddling?" he said, getting dressed.

"My goodness, someone could have seen us," she muttered, like she had just realized that fact. She threw her robe back on and ran inside.

"You just realized that, did you, Miss Prude?" He laughed at her. He grabbed at her robe as she ran in the hotel, but it eluded his grasp.

He chased her around the couch, and she said, "Draco, I don't feel like playing tag, so stop chasing me."

"Then stop running from me, and let me catch you," he joked.

Hermione gave that irritating schoolteacher look which she had perfected flawlessly over the years, and said, "I'm serious, and we have other things to do today, besides making love every minute."

"What could be more important than making love?" he asked, irritated. He threw himself on the sofa and crossed his legs.

"First," she said, as she walked over to the dining room, and walked back out with what seriously looked like an itinerary, "we're going to this lovely little cottage that's for sale, close by here, right on the shore. I've made arrangements for us to look at it today. I thought we might like to buy it, and use it as a vacation home."

He sat up. He was intrigued. "And?" he asked.

"Second, there's this art studio near here, and this rather famous wizard, who is a very prominent artist, artwork is displayed there. I have always wanted to go to one of his exhibitions, and there's an open house from noon to four o'clock today. Harry and Ginny wants to go with."

"Thrilling, what's next?" He acted bored, but he was actually amused.

"Well, now the next one you might not like," she started.

"I don't particularly like the first two, but it seems you're going to drag my arse there anyway, so what could be worse, a museum?" he waned.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said, sitting beside him. "As you know, this hotel and all the surrounding area are part of a pretty old Wizard village. There's a really old library in the village, and I'm dying to go there." She seemed so pleased with the day she had planned.

She smiled so big, he almost hated to burst her bubble. Almost, but not enough to keep him from saying, "No way in hell am I going to a bloody library, especially an old, dark, dank, smelly one. I'll buy you that fucking cottage by the sea without even looking at it. I'll buy you all the paintings you want, to put on every last mother-fucking wall of the bloody cottage, but I am not going to a library and you can't make me!" He glared at her hard, and crossed his arms.

Two hours later, after they had seen the cottage, (And made an offer on it), and had met the Potters at the art studio, in which Draco did purchase two paintings, one for his office, and one for her house (because they really were quite good), he was holding her hand and milling around a skinny aisle that was between two tall bookshelves at the dark, dank, smelly, mother-fucking library.

She didn't cry to persuade him. She didn't even use her usual threat of "no sex." All she did was calmly stand, say "You could have just said no. You didn't need to be so mean." And then she left the room, went to get another shower, dressed in one of the prettiest yellow dresses he had ever seen, and said, "If you change you mind, we're leaving from the lobby in one hour. I'm going down to meet Harry and Ginny for lunch. If you don't come with us, I'll see you later. I love you." She bent down, he was still sitting on the couch in the exact spot where she had left him, and kissed his cheek, and then gently ran her fingers across his hair.

She was smarter than him that was for sure! As soon as she left the room, he ran and got another quick shower, got dressed and exactly one hour later he met them in the lobby, and the happy threesome, plus Draco, was on their way to their electrifying, event filled day. Hurray.

After the fun, they went back up to their room. It was almost dinnertime. She told him that she had made reservations for the hotel's exclusive restaurant for 7:00 pm.

"When did you have time to plan all of the activities for today, plus make us reservations for a restaurant, and still have time to make love earlier?" he asked. He was truly amazed by her.

"I'm good at multi-tasking," she smiled. She went into the other bedroom, and opened the closet, to find something to change into for dinner.

"Why are all your clothes still in here? Did you not have TIME to move back to my room? I thought you said you were a good at multi-tasking," he sneered, but in jest.

"I just rather have my things in here," she said, as she pulled out a black dress.

He came up behind her, put the black dress back in the closet, and pulled out a red dress. He handed it to her, bent down and picked out a pair of shoes, and then went over to the dresser, and started looking at the meager assortment of jewelry she had brought with her. "This will never do," he said. He left the room, without another word. Hermione leaned out the doorframe and watched him walk across the living room, enter his room, and then walk back toward her. She hurried over and sat on the bed. He threw a red velvet box at her.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Open it and find out," he said.

She did as instructed, and enclosed in the box was a beautiful ruby and diamond necklace, and matching ruby and diamond earrings. "Is this why you picked out the red dress for me to wear?" she asked, smiling.

"You should be colour coordinated, you know." He shrugged.

She stood up slowly, walked over to him and put one hand on one cheek while she kissed his other. "Thank you, they're beautiful."

"Thank goodness you didn't see them while you were snooping around for your ring." He plopped down on the bed. She put the jewelry on her dresser and tackled him.

"I wasn't snooping around for the ring and you know it," she said and she jumped up and down on him and the bed.

"Oh, pain!" he feigned. "You have gained weight, haven't you?" He pushed her off him and said, "Now, for the record, I must remind you again that I've bought you many expensive items today, and nary a thing from you to me. My feelings are more than hurt, they are wounded beyond repair."

She sat next to him for a minute, and thought he had a point. "If I accept all these things from you, or even more than accept, practically expect all these things from you, do you think those women from the other night are right? Do you think a part of me is attracted to your money? Because, I would hate to think that was true, and I don't think it is, but now I don't know." She crossed her legs, and the top leg started to bounce up and down as she truly pondered these things.

"It was a joke, Granger. Stop reading so much into everything. Anyway, you would be a fool not to like me a little bit for my money, and you my dear are no fool," he concluded and then he pulled her to his chest, fell back on the bed, and kissed her soundly on the mouth.

She pushed against his chest with her arms, and said, "Let me at least pay for dinner tonight."

"Fine, but I'm ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. Now get dressed," he said as he patted her bum, got up from the bed, and went to his room.

The exclusive Grand Marsh Hotel Restaurant was very elegant and chic.

They had the best table in the house, and Draco order a magnum of champagne. Hermione wondered how much that was going to cost.

Draco ordered the lobster bisque, and the filet mignon. Hermione was going to order the cheapest thing on the menu, except the menu didn't have prices. Draco was embarrassed that it was taking her so long to order, so he ordered her the same as him.

Hermione sank lower into her seat. She looked in her purse. She only had 300 galleons with her. Normally, that would be enough to feed 20 people at a normal restaurant. Hermione knew, deep in her gut, that the champagne alone was probably three times that amount.

Draco had forgotten that she had offered to pay, so he didn't know why she was acting so distracted. "What's wrong?" He looked at her perplexed.

"May I borrow about 2500 galleons?" she asked him in a low voice.

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't have enough to pay for dinner," she admitted.

He openly laughed. He really hadn't remembered that she was supposed to pay. "Well then, they might make you wash dishes, or worse, they might call the law. So sad, so sad," he told her.

"I'll just charge it to the room, thank you very much." She smiled at him sweetly. He didn't think of that. He wanted to tease her a while longer about the whole thing. Well, at least this way, they could enjoy their meal.

After they ate, he talked her into taking a moonlight drive with him. She asked if she could drive. He said no. He would drive, of course. He didn't trust her driving during the day, there was no way in hell he would get in a car with her at night.

They got in her pretty little yellow car, and started their drive. "Do you even have a destination in mind?" she asked him.

"No," he laughed.

"You're alright to drive, aren't you? How much did you have to drink?" she asked him.

"I only had two glasses, for your information," he scolded, as they roared down the road.

"That's what they all say," she scolded back.

He reached over and grabbed her hand. She leaned her head back, and rolled down her window with the other hand. The fresh air caressed her face and made her feel fresh and cool. He rolled down his window as well. Now her hair was flying all around her face. She laughed. He looked over at her, and laughed as well. He reached over and pinched her arm. "I just wanted to make sure you were still real." He loved her so. She let out another laugh and shook her head vigorously. He watched her in awe; she seemed so happy and carefree.

She looked out the front window and yelled, "DRACO, WATCH OUT!"

He turned to look out the front window as well, but was too late. The oncoming headlights were in front of him before he could react, and he didn't even have time to swerve the car.


	28. 28 The Accident and The Aftermath

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 28: The Accident and the Aftermath:**

Everything was pitched black. Draco had a constricted pain in his chest, and he felt something warm dripping down his face. Or was it up his face? He was upside down. He moved his hand to the sticky wet substance, and realized it was his own blood. The car was upside down, so Draco was disoriented. He tried to unbuckle his seatbelt, but couldn't move his arm enough. He frantically looked over for Hermione, as the seconds felt like hours. She dangled upside down, quiet and still. Her hair, which before their accident was blowing all around her, now hung straight down, and was still and motionless. He tried to reach out and touch her, but his arm was still stuck close to his body, as if in a vise. He could only raise it high enough to wipe more blood out of his eyes. He realized the blood was coming from a gash in his chin.

"HERMIONE!" he yelled out in agony. Why wasn't she responding? "DAMN YOU, ANSWER ME!" he yelled again.

Gags, the pain in his chest was intensifying. He felt for his wand, and he couldn't find the blasted thing. He was alone and helpless, and the love of his life was dangling helpless, and possibly lifeless, beside him. He was in the depths of despair. He did the only thing he knew to do, he yelled for help.

He yelled for what felt like hours, and until he could yell no more. Not only was his voice hoarse, but the pain in his chest was crippling now, and he was sure he was going to die. Hermione had yet to move. His biggest regret was that he might die without touching her once more, and then he thought an even graver thought. She might die without him ever touching her again as well. He didn't want her to die alone and untouched. He reached around again, the shards of twisted metal which encased his body be damn, and tried for one last time to reach his seatbelt. He did. He smashed to the bottom on the car, which was really the top.

The pain was unbelievable. He tried to move to her, but her whole side of the car was caved in, and he finally noticed that her body was not only trapped and held aloft by the seatbelt, but by twisted metal as well. The only thing he could possibly do was try to get out of the car, and go get help. He moved back toward the driver's side of the car, and was able to climb out of the broken window. He realized the dire straights they were truly in, as soon as he exited the car.

The car must have rolled over a dozen times. They were in a deep, overgrown ravine. He tried twice to climb out, but he fell back each time. He found his wand and decided to send his patronus for help. He decided to send it to Potter. He told him they were in an accident, he didn't really know where they were, and Hermione was hurt very badly. Next he sent up a sort of permanent flare with his wand over their location. He scrambled back down the gorge, and back toward the car. He went back over to Hermione's side of the vehicle, and between the twisted steel and wreckage, he honestly could only see her hand, and just her hand. He lay down on his stomach, even though it caused him insurmountable pain to do so, and reached his hand in the wreckage to touch her hand. It was so cold. He held her fingers and started to cry for her. If she was dead, he would soon join her, because he wouldn't want to live in a world without her.

He woke up, and everything was white and bright. He closed his eyes again, the light blinded him. He was still in a lot of pain. He heard people all around. He opened his eyes again, to ask where he was, when he looked over at the bed next to him and saw her. There was a fury of medi-witches and healers all around her. He knew he was at St. Mungos, because he could tell they were using magic on her. A healer walked up to him, and closed the curtain between Hermione's and his bed. He was about to give the man a piece of his mind, when suddenly everything went dark once again.

Hermione woke up disoriented. She looked around and saw she was in a bed in what she could only assume was a hospital. The last thing she remembered was going out to dinner with Draco. Everything after that point was a complete and utter mystery. She knew one thing. Her head hurt like hell, worse than an average headache. Why was she here? She turned her head slightly, and saw Harry and Ron both sitting in nearby chairs. Harry appeared asleep, so she said, "Ron?"

He jumped from his chair, which woke Harry. They both went to her bedside. "Where am I?" she managed to ask.

"St. Mungos, you and Draco were in a serious car accident," Ron told her. "Draco is fine; he's in a room down the hall," he said to her, sensing that would be the next thing she would ask.

"I don't remember an accident. Did it just happen tonight?" she asked.

"Hermione," Harry began, "you've been in the hospital for two days. You and Draco were out taking a nighttime drive apparently, and somehow your car rolled off the side of steep hill, and landed in a ravine. Draco sent his patronus for help, and when we arrived, he was outside the car, and you were still inside. We got you out, and got you both here as soon as we could."

Hermione asked, "You said Draco's here. Is he going to be okay?"

"Yes," Harry said, "He's being discharged today. He broke his clavicle and fractured his sternum as well. He had a collapsed lung due to the broken chest bone. Besides numerous bruises and lacerations, he's fine."

"What about me?" Hermione questioned. Harry looked at Ron, and Ron took the lead and told her about her injuries. Harry couldn't say anymore at the moment.

"You had what they called a subdural hemorrhage, which is bleeding in your brain, and it caused a subdural hematoma, which just means you had bleeding between the layers of your brain. The healers said if you had been in a Muggle hospital, they would have had to remove a portion of your skull to release the leaked blood and repair the blood vessels. They would have had to shave your beautiful hair off." Ron smiled to try to make light, and added, "but here they were able to use magic, and you'll be fine, and your hair is all still there."

Hermione tried to smile, but she suddenly felt nauseated. She took a couple of deep breaths, to ward off the waves of nausea. She then asked, "Is that all?" Because she knew it wasn't.

Harry spoke finally, "Well, Hermione, you also have a broken lower leg, your tibia and fibula bones. They're healing just fine. But, Hermione, I don't even know how to say this." Harry looked at Ron for support. Ron walked out of the room. 'Thanks, Ron.' Harry thought in disgust.

Harry took Hermione's hand. "Hermione, did you know you were pregnant?"

Hermione felt like Harry had just punched her in the gut. She thought at first it was a cruel, mean joke, and it wasn't funny, not one bit. "I'm not pregnant, Harry, that's stupid. I would know if I was pregnant."

"Hermione, you were pregnant. You had a miscarriage, from the accident. The healers said you couldn't have been more than a few weeks along. Maybe only a month. They figured you probably didn't know. I didn't even want to tell you, but I really thought you should know."

Hermione had just begun to comprehend what Harry had told her. "So, I was pregnant, but now I'm not, right?"

Harry nodded his head and said, "Yes."

"Does Draco know?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry said again.

"I have a headache. I need something for the pain. Go get someone, please," she said. He left in a flash. She did have a headache. She did have pain, but she really just needed to be alone, if only for a moment. She let her tears roll down her face.

Draco was getting ready to leave the hospital. He hadn't gone to see Hermione, not even once. He wanted to see her. He longed to see her. But he didn't know what to say. It was entirely his fault. He had lied to her…he had more than two glasses of champagne. He wasn't paying attention to the road, and he caused the accident. She could have been killed. Her baby was killed. Their baby was killed. He didn't know if he would ever be able to face her again, but if he didn't, she would think he blamed her, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He walked down to her room. He opened the door. She was awake. She looked over at him, and started to cry. Why was she crying? Were they tears of sorrow, or joy? Was she happy to see him, or did she want him to go away? He walked into her room, and took her hand. He said the only word he could muster… "Sorry."

Hermione nodded and said, "Yeah, me too."

"Hermione, the healers tell me you'll be out of here in a week. You'll be alright." He didn't know why he was telling her all of this. It sounded like someone else talking to her. He had more important things he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't.

"Draco, don't blame yourself. I know you. I know how you think. We have our life together ahead of us, so don't run away from me. Don't abandon me," she said.

She did know him. Perhaps better than he knew himself, for that was precisely what he had wanted to do. He wanted to tell her she was better off without him, and that they should part ways, because he thought that would be easier than dealing with the pain. He sat down in a chair by her bed and stroked her hand, as his answer. But when she went to sleep, he did leave, with the intention of leaving her for good.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had been three months since the Gala. Draco had taken that much time off work. He hadn't seen her in those three months. She had left the hospital a week after he did, and she was just fine now. Her leg had completely healed, and there were not any residual side effects from her brain injury. He was all better as well. He laughed to himself when he thought that he had sustained more broken bones since he started dating Hermione than in all the years previous.

He had been in contact with her, by owl, twice since the accident. One owl, he sent to the hospital. He told her he was sorry, but he did blame himself, and seeing her everyday was just a constant reminder of what they had lost, and what he had done. The second owl he sent to her after she got home and was convalescing. It simply said that he was glad she was home, and after a few weeks, maybe he would call on her.

She had told him in her hospital bed that he shouldn't blame himself, and that he better not run out on her, yet those are the two things he did. He never really promised her he wouldn't leave. He always was a liar after all. He had never really changed that much.

He thought of her daily. Sometimes that was all he thought of, her and nothing else. If he knew of a way to fix everything he would, but he didn't know how he could possibly fix things now. She could never forgive him.

Draco walked into work and he was terribly late. It was twenty minutes after 10:00 am. So what? He was the boss. If someone had a problem with it, they could report it to him. He had heard that Granger hadn't gone back to work yet. Draco just assumed she needed to take more time off, so he wasn't concerned.

He came up to his assistant and told her, "I'm not up for any interruptions this morning."

The woman said, "Well, you've actually already missed a very important meeting that was scheduled at 10:00."

"Who was the meeting with, and who scheduled the damn thing?" Draco asked, perturbed.

"I thought you scheduled it, because it was written here in your appointment book, and it was with a new employee. I think they're still sitting in the conference room, if you want to go see."

"Tell them to go away. I don't want to have any bloody meetings today."

Draco turned his back on the woman and went into his office. He was distracted, thinking about Hermione. He decided to just leave work, and go see her, once and for all. As he was leaving his office, and heading for the lifts, he saw what he thought was a familiar brown curly head bobbing down the hallway, in front of him. It was as if he was reliving the moment from months before, when he saw Granger's curly brown head bobbing down the hall, the day she came to solicit for donations for the auction. It couldn't be her. Why would she be here of all places?

The head disappeared down a hallway. He turned to one of his employees and said, "Did you see that woman with the curly brown hair?"

The man said, "Who, Hermione Granger?"

"Damn her," Draco said, "What's she doing here?"

He said it more to himself, but the man thought he was talking to him, so he said, "You hired her. Don't you remember?"

Draco's eyes narrowed to slits, a frown came upon his face, and he said, "Apparently not." The man looked at him oddly and walked away from him. Draco sprinted back to his office and told his assistant, "Get a hold of Hermione Granger for me."

"But that's who your meeting was with this morning, and you told me to tell her to go away," the woman said confused.

"Well reschedule the damn meeting!" he yelled at the woman.

"I thought you were leaving for the day," she said.

"Do you have a hearing problem?" Draco asked, "Is your job too difficult for you? Please, just do as I ask."

"Don't be angry," The woman started, "but, I believe she has meetings all morning."

"WITH WHOM?" he asked. What was going on here? Was this some sort of an elaborate joke? "Schedule a meeting with her for this afternoon then."

"Don't be angry," she repeated her warning, "but, I believe her schedule is full all day."

"How the hell would you know? Are you my assistant or hers?" he asked, still confused.

"Well, she hasn't hired an assistant yet, so she asked me to set up interviews with prospective assistants for this afternoon."

"Clear her bloody schedule and have her come to my office at noon," he said. He didn't raise his voice this time. This time he merely leaned on the woman's desk, to intimidate her. She understood what he wanted.

He went back into his office. He would wait. He would wait until noon and then someone by golly was going to tell Draco Malfoy what they hell was going on here.

An hour and a half later, a knock on his door broke him from his reverie. Hermione walked in, not waiting for his meager invitation, and sat down in a chair opposite him and said, "Hello, Draco." She just sat there, smiled, and said hello as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. As if they had just seen each other yesterday.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you home resting?" he asked with an air of condescension. It was a stupid thing to say. He wanted to say, I've missed you and I need you and I love you.

"If you had bothered to keep your meeting with me this morning, you would have already known what I'm doing here," she stated, "It was most inconsiderate of you to be late, and then to cancel. It must be nice. Some of us have to work for a living."

He would play her game for now. It was fun to play with her again. He's missed that, but he was on a short fuse today, so she better get to some answers quick.

"What was our meeting pertaining to, the one I so rudely missed?" he asked with fake sweetness. He put his feet up on the desk.

"We were to discuss the gala, and how much money we made, and also talk about what our next charitable event should be," Hermione said. She leaned back in her chair, and looked at her fingernails, as if she was bored. She learned from the master.

Draco said, "Oh is that right?"

"Yes, it is," she said just as sweet as can be. "Now, if that's all, I'm quite busy this afternoon. I'm interviewing assistants and potential staff members. I'm building this department from the ground up you know, so I don't have time to chat. I'll see you later at home." She started to stand, but he actually took out his wand and pointed it at her.

"Sit down, Granger," he commanded with a smile. She had said she would see him later at home. That made him happy.

She sat back down and said, "Maybe for a few more minutes."

He stood from his desk, and walked over to her and sat back on his desk in front of her.

"Really, Draco," Hermione surmised, "is this the way you intimidate your employees? I'm afraid I'm not so easily intimidated, you'll find."

"I think you are. I think its working fine," he smiled. She merely laughed. He said, "Damn," and sat back on top of the desk, and started to swing his legs back and forth, much like he did that day he sat on her desk.

"Draco, do you have a valid reason for requesting my presence in your office," she asked him.

"Granger, sweet, Granger, I'm the boss. I don't need a valid reason for anything that I do. Now, tell me, how long exactly have you worked for me?"

She looked at her watch and said, "Two hours and 23 minutes."

"Who hired you?" he asked next.

"I'm shocked and appalled that you don't remember. You offered me this job the night of the gala. Why? Do you have a problem with me working here?" she said the first part in jest and the second part more seriously.

"Not at all, I'm just surprised," he told her. "I don't recall you accepting my offer; of course, my mind has been a bit addled since I met you."

Hermione smiled and said, "That's good to know. I wondered why you walked around with that befuddled look on your face. You're quite informative."

"I aim to please," he said with a shrug.

Hermione said, "So, you didn't really answer my question, do you have a problem with my working here?"

"I don't know. Actually, I might." He was trying to be honest, but he honestly didn't know how he felt.

"I can always go back to Gringotts. When I told them I was quitting today, and without any notice, I thought they'd be angry, but they actually told me if I changed my mind, I could come back anytime. Should I go back there, Draco?" Hermione stood next to the desk.

Draco jumped down off the desk and said, "Listen to me, love, I was just surprised to see you here, that's all. I thought you would have told me or something. I also figured you still needed some time off work."

"Why? My injuries are healed," she goaded.

"Some injuries don't heal," he said back.

"Please, Draco, don't talk about things that you know." She started to turn from him, but he grabbed her arm.

Fun and games were officially over. "Hermione, it can take a while to recover from the loss of a baby." It can take a while to get over the loss of your one true love, also.

They hadn't even discussed this subject, not even once. "Listen here, Malfoy," Hermione pointed at him as she spoke, "it's hard to mourn something you didn't even know existed."

"It's not a something, it was a baby, our baby, and I've mourned it, even though I didn't know it existed until it was gone." He looked so sad and he went back to sit behind his desk.

She felt awful. He was right. She needed to accept the fact that once in a while Draco might actually be right. "Draco, I'm sorry, and I know you've felt the loss as much as I have. I just figured since you haven't wanted to talk about it, you didn't really think about it. I should have known better." She came around and leaned back on his desk and looked down at him. He took her hand.

She continued, "I'm really okay, though, and I need some normalcy in my life. I need to go forward, not backwards. You told me that once, and it was sound advice." She walked back to the empty chair and added, "Do you really not want me to work here?"

"Do you really want to work here?" He felt a battle brewing and he wanted to defuse it as soon as he could. He didn't want to fight with her.

"That's a stupid question. I figured since we're engaged now, I should keep an eye on you. I've heard of the ways women get promotions around here, and I thought I should protect my interest, if you understand what I mean," she said back to him.

"Are we still engaged?" he asked. Please say yes.

"I still have your ring," she told him, holding up her finger, "so, I decided if Mohammad wouldn't come to the mountain, the mountain should come to Mohammad. That's a Muggle saying. It just means that since it seemed you were never going to seek me out, I better come see you. Plus, your job offer was just too tempting, even if women do have to sleep with you to get promotions around here," she finished.

"From now on, only you will have to sleep with me to get a promotion," he said.

"I'm already vice-president, and since I don't relish your job, I don't think I'll need to sleep with you at all," she countered.

"I believe that is reverse sexual harassment, and I don't think I like it." He frowned.

She openly laughed and said, "If that's all boss, I really do have interviews to do."

He came around the desk quickly and pushed her back down in the chair. "Have your assistant reschedule the interviews," he told her.

"I'm interviewing for assistants." She wanted to add 'idiot' to the end of that sentence so badly, but she bit her tongue.

"I'll have my assistant reschedule them," he said. He stood and left the office, and was back in no time. He said, "I really don't like my new assistant. She's a pain in the arse."

"At least you don't have to think about her and I having sex every time you look at her," she said, reminding him what he said about her and Scott. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"Gross imagine, Granger," he blanched and then he sat beside her again.

"Oh, by the way, I have something for you." She reached into her satchel, and pulled out the now battered, and definitely no longer mint condition of "**Hogwarts, a History".** She laid it on his desk.

"Why are you giving this to me?' he asked. He picked the book up and looked at it.

"It's my 'thank you for hiring me' present," she stated.

"How lame. You used to be so inventive with your presentations of the book, and look at all the trouble I went to giving it to you the last time."

"You mean all the heartache and pain you caused me," she asked.

"Shut up," he said.

"Not bloody likely," she said with a laugh.

He handed the book back to her and said, "Well, here's my present for your first day at work."

She handed it back to him and said, "Here's a belated engagement present."

He handed it back to her and said, "Here, it's my engagement present to you as well."

She handed it to him again and said, "Your birthday is coming up."

He handed it back to her and said, "My birthday has past, yours is coming up, so Happy Birthday."

She handed it back to him and said, "Here, just because I want to be nice."

He handed it to her, put his hands up in the air, and said, "Here, just because I love you. Try to top that."

Hermione stuck the book back in her satchel and said, "I will you know. I will top that, but I'll take it back, for now. I'll also gladly take your love. You know, eventually, we'll forget whose turn it is to give it to whom. I'm sure it will make a lovely wedding gift for you."

Draco turned to her and said, "Hey, Granger, have I ever told you that one of my fantasies is to make love on my desk?"

"You certainly have a lot of fantasies," she told him.

"You have no idea," he said with a grin.

"I have to admit, I'm shocked that certain fantasy hasn't already come to pass," she said as she folded her arms in front of her.

He smiled back and said, "I didn't say it hadn't, I just said it was one of my fantasies, and tell you what, Granger, for you, I would even shut the door."

"How gallant," Hermione sneered.

"I would do anything for you, my dear," he said.

"What would be in it for me?" she asked him. She had become so adept at joking and lying, that for a moment he thought she might actually be considering his offer.

He told her, "How about the satisfaction that you've helped a poor bloke in need."

"What do you need?' she asked, innocent enough.

"I thought that was crystal clear. Sex, my sweet, with you, on my desk, for it's been a long time. Do you realize that I haven't had sex since that weekend with you at the hotel?" He wanted her to know that. "Need I continue?"

She bit her bottom lip. Then she said, "You said you would do anything?"

Oh no. Did he say that? Where was she going with this? He didn't show any fear, he just said, "Yes, anything."

"Would you buy me an engagement ring?"

"Already done that."

"Would you buy me a book for a million galleons?"

"Done that one twice."

"Would you love me forever, and never leave again?"

"Probably," he announced.

"Probably?" she screeched.

"That one is a given, Granger." He stood up, sat down on his desk, and motioned for her to come to him. "Now, come here."

Nothing good ever happened when he request that of her.


	29. 29 The Wedding Plans

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 29: The Wedding Plans:**

Draco Malfoy sat on his desk and crooked his finger toward his own body and said again, "Come here, Granger."

She stood up, put herself behind the chair she had vacated, and said, "No, it's a trap."

"Just do it," he said, with a sigh.

"I don't want to," she proclaimed.

"Come here, or I'll fire you," he said with a steady voice.

"You can't do that," she said plainly.

"Why not?"

"Because I said so," she told him.

"Please come here," he said with fake sugary sweetness.

"Now you're just being a fool," she said. She rolled her eyes.

"I said please and everything," he said and he sighed again and looked up at the ceiling.

"I thought the please was a nice touch," she complimented.

"Granger, must everything be a battle? Must I always concede to you?" he pleaded.

"That's funny," she lauded.

"But I need you," he whined.

"Are your legs broken?" she asked. She stepped around the chair and came just a bit closer.

"That's it, come closer now," he said.

"Meet me in the middle," she urged.

"No, I won't let you have your way this time. I want to have my way at least once," he said.

"You always get your way! If you don't believe me, I'll list all the times you've gotten your way to you!" She seemed really to be upset.

"I just want to kiss you," he said softly. "I haven't kissed you in a very long time."

"Whose fault is that?" Now she seemed more sad than upset. She sat back down and hung her head. "Is that all you really want from me?" she concluded.

"For now," he said. He got off the desk and stood beside her chair. "You know what, Granger? I don't want you to come to me anymore." She looked up at him.

"Then, may I leave and go back to work?" She stood and they were almost nose to nose.

"No, I decided that I don't want you to come to me anymore, because I want to come to you," he said and he suddenly threw his arms around her waist, picked her slightly up off the floor, and kissed her lips. He kissed her with a hard, sweet, passionate, sensual kiss. His face moved to the left and hers moved to the right. He continued his assault on her lips and she accepted. Her hands went up to his head and her fingers threaded through his hair. They parted for a second, both shocked at their mutual passion after three months part, and then her lips crashed down on his again, and he relished in the feeling. They continued to kiss, and he continued to hold her off the ground. He walked backwards, still holding her, her legs dangling, and he shut his door with his foot. Then he lived out another one of his fantasies, and Granger graciously obliged.

After work, if you can call what they did all day in his office work, they went back to her house.

They sat on her couch, eating take out food, when Draco asked, "When are we getting married?"

"I don't know. When do you want to get married?" she asked, taking another bite of food.

"I want to get married tomorrow, but since I'm sure you wouldn't agree to that, I guess we could wait a while longer, next Tuesday, perhaps?" he said, pulling her bare legs up on the couch, and rubbing them up and down with his hands.

"How about we get married in October, on the 17th, at the banquet hall where we first declared our attraction to each other, at say, 3:00 o'clock in the afternoon, with the reception to be held immediately after?" Hermione stated, barely taking a breath.

"What have you done?" He pulled her hips, dragging her practically onto his lap.

"I've already sent out the invitations."

"What, when?" He was surprised.

"Last week." She buried her face in her hands, waiting the coming onslaught. It never came.

He pulled her hands down from her face and said, "That's great, then I don't have to do a thing, do I?" He pushed her off his lap and picked up his plate again, and continued to eat. "May I see the invitations?" he asked between bites.

She ran upstairs, and came back down, and showed him the invitation.

"How did you know we would get back together?" Draco asked, ashamed of the way he had acted the last three months.

"Draco, I told you once, I know you better than you know yourself. I knew you loved me, and that we were still going to get married. I love you also, you know. Did you think I would give up on you that easy?" She ran back upstairs. Where was she going now? She came back down and threw a small box at him.

"What is this?" he inquired. She sat down next to him and opened the box. Inside were a set of wedding rings. One appeared to be a man's and the other was a woman's. They appeared to be a white/grayish colour, with little white diamonds surrounding the entire circle, on both rings.

"They're made from palladium. It's kind of like platinum. I picked the palladium ones, because of the silver/grey colour. Do you like them?" she asked.

He turned to look at her, and she was bouncing on the couch, she was so delighted. "Your taste has improved, vastly. They're beautiful. Were they expensive?" he asked.

"Why does that matter. I wanted to buy them. I got a little inheritance money from my dad, and I saw these at a Muggle jewelry store, and I just fell in love with them. Are you pleased?" she asked. She slipped her arm through his and put her head on his shoulder. "We still need to get them inscribed. I'll take yours and have it inscribed, and you'll do the same with mine. We won't show each other the inscriptions until our wedding day."

He really didn't know what to say. He was more than pleased. She fixed everything. She fixed their fractured relationship, she apparently planned their whole wedding, and she forgave him for all his past indiscretions and misdeeds. He was too choked up to even speak. He put the rings back in the box, and picked up his plate to continue to eat. She didn't need him to say anything. She knew what he felt. That's why he loved her so.

The weeks went by too fast for Draco and not fast enough for Hermione. She felt like she had too much to do, between planning her wedding and her new job. Hermione was reveling in her new position at Draco's company. She hired her dream staff, most of them coming over from Gringotts, and she was starting a happy new routine. He was starting a happy new routine, but it had nothing to do with work, and everything to do with his new employee.

He had practically moved into her little two bedroom house. He was there every day and every night. He liked it there. It felt like a home, and not just like a house.

Their wedding was less than a week away, and on this particular Saturday morning, while she was busy with their seating chart, and he was bored and trying to read The Daily Prophet, he made a suggestion that he didn't think she would consider in a million years, yet he was going to suggest it anyway. "Granger, lets do something fun today. It's a beautiful fall day. I don't want to be stuck inside the entire time. You need to get away from the wedding plans, and I need to just get away.

"Have you written your vows yet?" she asked, still pouring over her seating chart.

"I thought I would wing it," he said.

She looked up at him so suddenly it actually frightened him, and said, "You most certainly will not 'wing it'. Now, you need to get me your rough draft no later than Monday, and then if it needs a rewrite I'll help you with it."

Was she serious? He looked at her like she had suddenly gone purple, and with much surprise said, "You most certainly won't rewrite my vows, and you don't need to know what they are until the day of our wedding."

"You just better not mention anything off-colour," she warned. She stood up, he hoped to sit on his lap or something romantic, but she went into the kitchen, and came back in with a cup of tea.

"I'd like a cup also," he said.

"The kettle should still be warm," she said distracted. How he wished she would allow one of his house elves to come here.

"You won't get it for me?" he asked, but he stood to get his own tea before she could give him the nasty look that he sure was coming.

When he came back into the living room, she asked, "Have your parents sent back their R.S.V.P. yet?"

"No, and I doubt they will," he said nonchalantly, "They have, however, sent us the nicest little goblin forged silver fruit bowl. It's in the spare bedroom. It had a big silver bow and on the card it said, and I quote, 'To Draco and his first wife.' Do you want me to go show it to you?" he asked.

"Does it really say that?" she asked, almost believing him.

So he said, "Yes."

She ran upstairs, he waited for her to return, and when she came back down she said, "You're an arse. It didn't say that, and it's a very nice bowl, although an odd thing to give your only son when he's marrying."

"I'm sure they figured they have given me enough over the years," he said truthfully.

She sat back down to look at the blasted seating chart on the coffee table for the umpteenth time, when Draco, to get Hermione's attention, threw a pillow from the chair he was in, aiming for her head, but instead, it landed on the seating chart, and all the little pieces of papers that represented the various guests went flying all around the table.

"DRACO MALFOY!" She stood.

"Wouldn't that be awful if that really happened during our reception?" he said, laughing, and standing, in case he had to run to get away to save his life. "Just imagine, there we are, having dinner, and a large pillow comes out of nowhere and flings all the guests in the air!" He bent down and picked up a little piece of paper and said, "Oh my, Longbottom flew complete off the table and landed on the floor. He always was very clumsy."

"You are a first class git!" she screamed, throwing the same pillow back at him as she started to pick up all the little pieces of papers.

"Hermione, just let the guests sit where they bloody well want to sit," he said seriously.

"We're having a formal sit down dinner after the ceremony!" she barked.

"Exactly, a sit down dinner. Let them just all sit down," he complained. "It's not like any of my family or friends are attending this thing anyway, so who are you trying to impress?" He meant it innocently enough, but it was the wrong thing to say.

"So my friends and family are so low class, that a formal sit down dinner is too good for them? Maybe we should just put all the food in troughs and line the guests up like pigs," she said in anger.

"I'm sure that would be a step up for the Weasley clan," he said, and yes it was meant to be mean.

Hermione came within an arms length of Draco and pointed her finger at his chest so hard, he felt like he was going to be impaled on it. "Malfoy, if you don't apologize this instant, there may not be a wedding."

He grabbed her finger and said, "I am so bored by all your empty threats. Do this or no sex, do that or I won't speak to you again, do this or no wedding. Once you even threatened to curse me, but here I am, cursed free! You know I consider your threats to be quite the joke, don't you?"

Hermione wrenched her finger from his hand, pulled out her wand, and sent a flash of gold light right toward him. She turned him into a ferret, just like the fake Professor Moody did during fourth year at Hogwarts.

She went toward the front door, pointed her wand at him to change him back, and then slammed the door and left the house.

Well, that was uncalled for, Draco thought as he shook his body all over. Being turned into a ferret once in your life was bad enough; to have it happen twice was literally just wrong.

Hermione was gone most of the day. When she returned, Draco wasn't home. She walked over to the seating chart on the coffee table and saw that he had completed it. She looked down. He used push pins to keep all the names in place. Nice touch. She moved just two little pieces of paper, but besides that, thought it all looked good. She went upstairs, and drew a bath. As the water was running, she undressed and put a towel around her body.

She heard the familiar sound of someone apparating. It must be him.

"Granger, I know you're home. I see you've moved two of my push pins! Get down here; I have a present for you." She hesitantly looked down the stairs. She didn't see him yet. She started down two stairs, and then remembered her water was still running. She went to turn around, and he had apparated directly behind her on the stairs. She was so frightened that she almost fell backwards, and he put his arms around her to keep her in her place.

"First, Granger," he started, "I apologize for my rude remarks about your friends earlier. Do you apologize for turning me in to a rodent?"

"Actually, a ferret is a member of the weasel family, and I don't mean the Weasleys, I mean the animal, so you could call it a vermin if you'd like, but it's not really a rodent," she said. She put her hands on his chest as he pulled her up to the landing.

He ignored her useless facts about ferrets and asked, without a trace of antagonism, "Will you apologize and promise it will never happy again?"

"I am sorry, but you were only a ferret for a few seconds you know," she pointed out.

"Do you want your present?" he asked her.

"You got me a present? May I get dressed first?" she asked.

"Yes to the first question and no to the second," he said.

"May I turn off my bathwater?" she inquired.

"No," he said, and then with his arms around her middle he apparated them to her garage. In the garage was another new car. This time a pretty, little, lime green Fiat.

He smiled and said, "Green is more my colour, don't you think?" He turned to her, and thought her smile would match his own, but she wasn't smiling at all. She clutched her towel, and she had a distant, faraway look in her eye. She was almost expressionless.

"I already have a car," she said and she looked at the floor.

"I know, but this one is new. You liked your other one so much, I thought I would get you another, especially since I wrecked the first one," he tried to explain.

"I really don't need it, you keep it." She turned to walk inside.

"Does it give you bad memories?" he asked. He followed her to the kitchen.

"No, it's not that, I just don't really want it." She started upstairs.

"Granger, do you want another yellow one? I can get a different colour." He didn't understand. He started to pull her back toward the garage.

They had reached the kitchen when she said, "It's not a big deal, and I just don't need another car. It's nice and all, but really, you keep it for yourself. Green is your colour." She tried to leave him, but he reached for her. He grabbed her shoulders, and then put one hand behind her neck and left the other on her shoulder.

"Give me a valid reason, and I'll return the damn thing," he said holding her tight.

She shook her head and said, "Just leave it alone."

"You know what?" he asked, "I just realized something. You've not cried once about the miscarriage since it happened. Is that why you don't want the car? Does it bring up painful memories? You need to talk about these things, Hermione. Take it from someone who kept everything bottled up for a long time; you need to let it out."

She broke from his grasp and said, "How do you know if I cried? You left me after the accident! Recall that? I cried many tears, buckets of tears, and they were not just for losing the baby. So don't you dare try to tell me what I feel!" She started to dash out of the kitchen, but he blocked the door.

"Why must it always be a battle at each turn with us? I try to do something nice and you won't accept it. I try to get you to open up, and you close down!" he cried.

"This isn't a battle. It's a war! A war inside my heart!" she yelled, "and it's all because of you! I do blame you. There were nights I cried all night, and cursed the day I met you again. There were days I thought I hated you, and I didn't care if I ever saw you again. I live with that guilt." She fell down to the floor, and sat in a heap at his feet. He thought she looked so sad in her towel on the floor. "I don't want to be angry at you any longer. I love you too much. What's wrong with me?"

He kneeled beside her and pulled her now crying frame close to his chest. "It's okay to be angry with me. It's okay to hate me sometimes. It means you can still feel. I know you love me," he said, as he smoothed her hair with his hands.

She cried very hard. "I'm sorry," she said through her sobs.

"You have no reason to feel sorry about anything," he said to her softly, "because if you had unkind thoughts about me, I wasn't aware of them, so no harm was done."

They sat on the floor together, with his legs folded in front of him, and her leaning against his body.

He thought her tears had abated, when he felt another drop. He continued to stroke her hair. She felt a drop on her arm. Was he crying? He felt another drop, and this time it was on his cheek. How did one of her tears fall on his cheek, when her head was tucked into his chest? He looked up at the ceiling and saw a large bubble. What was that? Another drop fell, landing on the tip of his nose. She looked up to see where he was looking. She immediately realized what it was, and scrambled to her feet. He stayed on the floor, pointed at the large bubble that was dripping water and said, "What the hell? What's causing that bubble?"

"Draco!" Hermione said aghast, "that's the plaster from the ceiling. The bathtub was left on and it's flooded!" As soon as the words escaped her mouth, the bubble burst and it was as if Draco was splashed with a bucket full of water. The water came down, as if in slow motion, as he was looking up at it from his place on the floor, and it landed directly on him, and the entire kitchen was covered in water. The force was so powerful; it knocked him to his back. She scurried up the stairs, which had water flowing down them, and ran into the bathroom, which by this time was completely covered in water, which not only covered the bathroom floor, but the hall, and the stairs, and soon the living room. She reached into the flooded tub and turned off the water. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, and just stared at the mess, completely wet.

She started to laugh.

"WHY THE HELL DIDN"T YOU TURN OFF THE BLOODY WATER?" he bellowed. Apparently he didn't see the humour in the situation, but then again, he had several bad memories surrounding her bathroom and water.

Between her laughter and guffaws, she said, "I wanted to come and turn the water off, but you wouldn't let me."

Her towel was completely wet now, so she just let it drop and went to retrieve a dry one for her and one for him. She wrapped the dry towel around her middle and threw the other one to him. She took her wand and siphoned the water up, the best she could. He dried off, and went down stairs to repair the kitchen.

She didn't want a bath now. She got dried off and dressed and joined him on the couch, just as he had moved another "paper guest" on the seating chart. He had dried off as well.

"I thought the chart looked good. Who are you moving now?" she asked. She put her feet under her body.

"I'm moving you as far away from me as I can," he said. She leaned over and saw that he did indeed move the little "Hermione" paper. He put it over in the corner, by itself.

"I don't even get a table?" she asked with a small laugh.

"Not at this time. Maybe if you're good this week, I'll move you to a table," he laughed. "Do you want me to get rid of the car?"

"No, its fine, but I really don't like the colour." She made a bitter face.

"I do. We'll get you another one someday, and you can pick the colour." He snuggled her closer to him.

"We'll be married in only a week. Can you believe it?" she asked. She felt the rough material of his jumper next to her cheek. It was strange to think that in less than a week, they would be married. Maybe he wasn't freaking out, but she certainly was.

"Yes, I can. I imagined being married to you the first week we started seeing each other," he admitted.

Hermione turned in his arms and kissed him. He held her tight, his senses swirling all around him. It was like this every time they kissed. He could drink from the fountain of her mouth all day long. Hermione shifted on the couch, and removed her shirt.

"What are we doing, Miss Granger?" he asked fascinated.

"Do you want to know one of my fantasies?" she asked standing, and pulling her jeans down over her hips. He was too mesmerized for a moment to even answer her. "Are you paying attention to me?" She snapped her fingers to get his attention.

"I am most certainly paying attention," he said, "and pray tell, what is your fantasy? To make love in a library? Or, I know, to tell me everything you know that I don't during the act of copulation?"

She grabbed her shirt, put it back on, and walked to the kitchen. Hey, he was just having a bit of fun. He stood up and followed her. "I'm dying to know your fantasy young lady," he said.

She took her shirt off again, and said, "I have always wanted to have sex in a car." She grabbed his hand and ran to her garage.

"We are not having sex in my new car!" he said.

"Of course not, I think it's too small and would be physically impossible anyway, but, my old car has a very large back seat." She actually wiggled her eyebrows.

"You are a tart, a hussy, and everything in between, and I am so thankful!" he laughed. He opened the back door, and grabbed her hand, and practically pulled her in the car with him. He pulled off his shirt, and kicked off his shoes. She was already in only her underwear and bra. He started to remove his slacks, but stopped suddenly.

"What?" she asked.

"No, we can't," he said.

She didn't understand. "Why ever not?"

"I don't want to," he said. He grabbed his shirt and shoes and climbed out of the car, leaving a bewildered Hermione behind. She slumped down in the seat. He opened her door, and said, "Come on!" He took her wrist and disapparated with her.

They were somewhere very dark, but large. At first she thought she was in a warehouse or something.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"The carriage house at Malfoy Manor," he said.

"What are we doing here?" She suddenly covered her body with her arms.

"We're living out your fantasy and mine as well. You want to make love in a car, and I want to make love while my parents are home. I've never done that. We'll both live out our dreams. Now come on, my father has a limousine, and it's quite large and roomy." He lit his wand, and found one of several limos, and opened the door. He pulled her inside.

He couldn't get undressed fast enough. He was right, this was much better. They actually had room to lie down on the seat. He was on top of her, stroking her body everywhere, as his mouth sought her mouth and he lavished her lips with endless, wanting, kisses.

He moved his hand to the silk of her knickers, and massaged her until she was wet and moaning his name. Her hands were kneading his back and buttocks. He removed her bra. She buried her hands in his hair, as he continued his torturous pursuit. He hooked his finger in the sides of her panties, and pulled them down. They were in the way of their desire.

He still had on his underwear - the last barrier to their naked bodies brushing flesh on flesh. He licked the outline of her lips, and then he crashed his lips to her mouth. His fingers played at the core of her heat, as she was trying to move his boxers down his hips.

His boxers found their way to the floor, and he swiftly entered her, and almost came immediately, just from the pressure of being inside her. He groaned a low growl deep in his throat, and tried to hold on, though she was panting and so close. He moved his hips around in small circles, and her hips were raised from the leather of the seat. He pulled out; she hated when he did that. He sat up in the seat and pulled her on top of him.

Her legs were bent at the knees, and she moved up and down on him, with her hands clenching the leather of the back of the seat, beside his head. He put his hands on her hips, and opened his eyes.

She was gorgeous, especially when she was in the throes of passion. Widening her legs, to straddle him wider, she almost collapsed as her climax started. He continued to help her move up and down. He tried to keep his eyes open. He wanted to see what she looked like at the moment of release.

She fell backwards on his legs, and started to scream out. He couldn't hold on any longer. He put his hands on her back to keep her from falling completely backwards, and with his legs quivering from their own spasms, he started his climax. They reached their peak at the same time. Her body withered on top of him, collapsed on his chest, her head on his shoulder.

He was still inside her, but then she finally slipped off his lap, and huddled in the corner of the seat. He lay down on the other end of the seat, with his back up against the side of the car, and his feet near her folded legs.

"Bloody hell, Granger," he said, "It's like we don't even need the pretense of foreplay anymore. That was bloody fantastic."

She climbed over his legs, and put her body next to his. "Well, let's not underestimate the importance of foreplay. It is necessary sometimes. I'm cold."

He held her tightly. "So, what now?" he laughed, "My father had a Bentley, a Mercedes, and Rolls Royce as well."

She perked up. "I've always liked the look of a Rolls Royce," she said.

He picked up his clothes, used his wand to tidy themselves and the car and said, "What the hell are we waiting for, let's go."

_(Author's note: You are all cordially invited to the wedding of Draco A. Malfoy and Hermione J. Granger, to take place in chapter 30 and 31!)_


	30. 30 The Wedding Part I

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 30: The Wedding: Part I:**

Hermione – before the wedding:

In less than an hour, Hermione Granger would be Mrs. Draco Malfoy. How odd that sounded. Hermione Malfoy. It would be one of those names that people either would never remember, or could never forget. Maybe she would be modern and keep her maiden name. She hadn't given that much thought.

When Draco and Hermione started dating seven months ago, she would never have imagined it would end in marriage. All the things that had happened along the way could have stopped the thought of nuptials from entering her mind as well, but now that it was a reality, Hermione could not remember ever wanting anything as much as she wanted this. He was her life and her family. He was her best friend and her lover. He was her everything. She never thought she would love this hard and intense.

They were getting married in the same banquet hall where they reconnected on the night of the auction. It was decorated beautifully. It was her dream wedding. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if her mum and dad had been alive to see this occasion come to pass. All of the preparations for the wedding and the reception came off without a hitch. She wasn't sure, but the relative ease in which the wedding came to be, might be a sign of an impending omen. Whether it was an omen of good things or bad, she wasn't sure. She never put a lot of stock in that type of thing before. The way she viewed it was that everything happened the way it was supposed to happen, and for a reason. All the things they had to go through to get to this point were worth the journey, because they took the journey together.

Harry and Ron were to be their formal witnesses. Since Draco claimed he didn't have friends, only acquaintances, and she had never really had a best female friend, they decided to forgo the usual maid of honour and best man. Instead, Harry and Ron would both walk her down the aisle and stand beside the bride and groom during the ceremony.

Hermione's dress was 100 percent silk, duchess satin, in ivory tulle, covered by beaded lace appliqué, with an empire waist accentuated with a satin beaded band, with lace and satin up the back. It had capped sleeves with a beaded floral motif. She wore a silver brushed metal tiara decorated with diamonds and emeralds, which Draco said his mother had worn at her wedding. Apparently she told Draco she wanted to attend the ceremony, but his father did not, so she sent this as an apology, and with her best wishes.

Her bouquet was ivory roses and one single yellow daisy. That was Draco's idea.

Her hair was up and loose, she wore a simple set of pearl earrings and a pearl necklace, that her mother gave her on her 16th birthday, and it was her something old. Her something new was her dress and her something borrowed was his mother's tiara. She decided her something blue would be something from Draco. She asked him to give her something blue she could conceal on her person, for the ceremony, and told him not to give it to her until their wedding day. When she was getting dressed, with Ginny's help, she opened the small box he gave her. She laughed out loud. There in the box was a pair of baby blue lace knickers. She promptly put them on. He was so funny sometimes.

She had his ring inscribed. Harry was holding the ring for Malfoy, and Ron would do the honours with the ring for her. She gave it to Harry this morning, and told him not to lose it. The inscription read, "Pinocchio - Thanks for the truth: your love. Dorothy."

She had her vows written and memorized, but she decided to write them on a piece of parchment and carry them with her, just in case. She stuck it inside her bra. She was all ready. She looked at her reflection and smiled. Yes, in less than an hour, she was going to be Draco's wife.

Draco – before the wedding:

Draco Malfoy was officially freaking out. He had never freaked out before, so he could only assume that was what he was doing. He looked at his watch. Only an hour. In one hour he was either making the best decision of his life, or the biggest mistake of his life. He knew it wasn't really a mistake, but that damn little voice inside his head kept saying that it might be.

He took the ring he had inscribed for her out of his pocket. He was supposed to give it to Weasley to hold, but he didn't fully trust the stupid git, so he kept it in his pocket. He looked at what he had inscribed on the inside and re-read it for the 100th time. It read: "D. Thanks for giving me my heart. P." He hoped she would understand the 'tin man' reference, but this was Granger after all, the smartest witch he had ever known. She would understand.

He just thought of her as 'Granger'. Soon she would not be a 'Granger' anymore, but a 'Malfoy', unless she was a bloody fool and kept her own last name. They had never really discussed it, but he hoped she wouldn't. He liked the thought that her name would be the same as his.

He was more than upset that his parents decided not to come to his wedding. He realized now that the day they met her at his house they were just saving face. Being cordial to her was all a ruse. His father told Draco that unless he came to his senses, he really didn't wish to have anything to do with him any longer. His mother, who had never disobeyed his father a day in her life, did stop by his office a few days before the wedding, gave him her tiara for Hermione to wear, and wished him the best of luck. That was the most he could wish for, anyway. He didn't really need his parents any longer. He had his own money, and his own life. He kept thinking about how Hermione's parents would not be able to attend because they were dead. She must be more anguished over that fact, than the fact that he was upset that his parents were pureblooded bigots.

He knew he wanted to marry Granger that day she babysat Potter's son. The way she was frazzled by his crying, and had to admit that she didn't know everything. He smiled when he thought of that. She looked awfully sweet when she was holding the small baby and feeding him as well. Wouldn't she look sweet feeding their baby? He suddenly felt somber. There was plenty of time to have more children.

He wanted this day to be over with! He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He wore black traditional dress robes, with a tie of deep forest green. He straightened his tie, and checked his hair. He looked great, he had to admit. He was sure that Hermione would look like a fairy princess, after all, he always compared her to one, and now she really was one.

He desperately needed a cigarette, to calm his nerves. One cigarette, and he would come right back inside.

************************************************

Harry knocked on the door of Hermione's dressing room door. She didn't even have to be told it was him, somehow she just knew. She said, "Come in, Harry."

"How did you know it was me?" he asked her, leaning in and kissing her cheek. Without waiting for her answer he said, "You look amazing, so beautiful."

"Are you surprised?" She looked amused.

"Of course not, you've always been beautiful to me," he gushed. "You're just more so today."

"Has anyone checked on Draco?" she asked.

"Ron went in to get your ring, and he said that Draco was very nervous, and seemed quite stressed," Harry admitted.

"How is he acting?" Hermione asked.

"Well, he's acting the way you usually act, actually." Harry laughed.

"That bad?" She smiled.

"Yes, I'm not sure I can stand to be near him like that," he said, with a funny look.

"Don't exaggerate, Harry," Hermione said, "You can't stand him anytime."

Harry laughed at her pun, even though it held some truth. He would never like Draco Malfoy, but he would always love Hermione Granger, so he would accept Draco for her.

"I think I'll go talk to him," she decided. Harry knew not to try to talk her out of it when she had made up her mind to do something.

Hermione walked down the hallway from her dressing room to his. She knocked on the door, and when she didn't get an answer, she opened it slowly and peered in. He wasn't there. She closed the door again, and ran into Ron in the hallway. "Are you looking for your intended?" he asked.

"Yes, have you seen him?" Hermione asked nervously.

"One of my brothers told me they saw him head outside to the alley," he told her. "By the way, you look so pretty." He smiled at her and kissed her lips lightly. She smiled and waved and headed to the doorway that would lead to the alley.

She found him leaning against the wall of the building, smoking a cigarette. It was reminiscent of the time she saw him at the auction, when she thought the items he donated were missing. He was a carbon copy of that memory. It made her smile. "Are you getting some fresh air?" she joked.

He was startled to see her. He threw his cigarette on the ground and said, "You are more beautiful than I have ever seen you," and he wasn't just saying that, he meant that.

"Thank you," she said and smiled.

He walked up to her, without touching her, for if he touched her he might ravish her right there in the alley, and he said, "Isn't it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony?"

Hermione said, "I don't believe is such nonsense," and she didn't; "besides, even if it was true, I would risk it for you. I mean, seriously, what other bad luck could befall us that we haven't already handled with grace and dignity," she joked.

"I'm grace, you be dignity," he mocked her old gag.

She ignored his joke and said, "If we could get through the last seven months, what can happen today that we can't get through?"

"Too true, too true," he agreed.

She suddenly looked up at the grey sky and said, "It looks like it might rain. It's supposed to be good luck if it rains on your wedding day."

"So let's get this straight, Granger," he said, leaning against the wall again, "when it's convenient for you to not believe in luck, say the groom seeing the bride in her dress, you don't believe it, but when it's something like rain on the wedding day being good luck, you buy into the whole thing?"

"Something like that," she answered. "I believe in good things, and not bad, so sue me. I want my fairytale happy ending." She leaned on the opposite building to face him.

He lit another cigarette. She said, "Harry said you were freaking out. You aren't having second thoughts are you?"

"What the hell does bloody Harry Potter know, the stupid Prat," Draco said, putting his cigarette out.

"You just lit that," she pointed out.

"Oh yeah," he lit another one. He _was_ freaking out, just a bit.

"So, everything is alright? You aren't having second thoughts or anything?" she reiterated, concerned.

"Why would you ask me that?" he asked. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"Of course not," she said, pushing herself off the wall.

"Then why would you assume I was?" he asked with ire.

"Listen, Malfoy, I'll just go back inside and leave you alone for a while, to smoke your cigarette, and be alone with your thoughts." She didn't need him to suddenly act like a spoiled brat on her wedding day, for goodness sakes.

She went to the doors, and they were apparently locked. He came up behind her and said, "How easily you forget. They still lock from the inside. You will need to go around front."

She started to walk back down the alley, to head toward the front of the banquet hall, when she couldn't shake a sudden feeling of foreboding. He was having second thoughts. She could just tell. Her fairytale happy ending may not come true after all. She wanted it to, but she was having her own doubts now. She started to slightly run, when she heard his footsteps behind her. She had just reached the end of the alley, when she felt him swirl her around. His hand was on her arm. He was out of breath. He pulled her to him suddenly and kissed her hard, harder than he had ever kissed her before. She didn't care. She wanted to feel his kiss. When his lips finally parted from her lips, he said, "Don't go away from me thinking that I'm having doubts. Does that prove to you that I want to marry you?"

She merely stood there and looked at the ground. He put his hand under her chin, and brought her face up to meet his. This time he tenderly kissed her lips. "Granger?" He wanted her to answer.

He kissed her again. He put his arms around her tight and kissed her with all the love he felt. He pulled his head up and said once more, "Granger, tell me you know that I want to marry you." When she still didn't respond, and she put her hands on his chest to push him away he kissed her once again, this time much more forcefully. After the final kiss he said, "I love you and we're getting married in about twenty minutes, okay?"

"Okay," she said, still not completely convinced. She tried to walk down the lane to the front of the building again, but he pulled her by her wrist and brought her into a very strong embrace.

"I'm just nervous," he admitted, "I want to be a good husband to you, but don't doubt my love or intentions ever again."

"You'll be an excellent husband," she said in his ear, and then she kissed his neck.

"And you'll be an adequate wife," he joked. She glared at him and he said, "All these months with me, and you still have no sense of humour at all. How sad for you." He pinched her arm. She pinched him back.

"I have an excellent sense of humour, which I hate that I have to continually point that out to you," she grumbled.

They both reached the front of the building in time to see their guests arriving. They decided to stay at the side of the building until the guests were all seated. It would look odd, Hermione reasoned, for the bride and groom to enter the front of the banquet hall along with the guests.

They went back to the alleyway, as it started to sprinkle rain. The clouds grew darker and larger drops began to fall. "There's your good luck sign, Granger," Draco said.

Draco took his wand and cast a shield charm over the pair. "Thanks, I didn't exactly have a place for my wand under my dress," she reasoned.

Draco said, "You could have put it in your knickers."

Hermione said, "Oh, do you think there would be room?"

"Do you have on the blue knickers I gave you?" he asked.

"Yes, I do." She smiled at him.

"Let me see," he said, "I don't believe you." He started to pull her skirt up and she smacked his hand away.

"Stop trying to sexually assault me on my wedding day." She took his wrist and held on tight.

"Alright, I'll wait and sexually assault you on your wedding night," he said, and he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

They both leaned against the wall again; Hermione leaning on her left shoulder and Draco leaning on his right, so they were face to face. Talking like this, in there full wedding gear, seemed the most natural thing to the pair.

"Did you get your vows written?" Hermione asked.

He touched her cheek and said, "You worry too much."

"Draco!" she said sternly.

"Yes, I got the bloody vows written, Mother," he joked.

"Don't call me mother ever again," she chided. Then she actually shivered. "While we are on the subject, don't call me food nicknames, animal names, mother, mum, mummy, or anything of the sort."

"May I call you 'Granger', because in a little while, you won't be a 'Granger' any longer?" he asked, moving his hand to her hand.

"Yes, I won't mind that and you can call me other forms of endearment, like sweetheart, love, darling, but only in private," she said.

He thought she was kidding, so he laughed, but when he saw that she wasn't sharing in the laughter he stopped. "Why can those names only be said in private?" he asked, because he really wanted to know.

"I find it embarrassing to be called things like baby or sweetie. It's rather common and mundane, and I just don't like it," she reasoned.

"What will you call me in private?" He came closer and kissed her neck. He stayed close and added, "Something like, 'my sexy lover'?"

She laughed so hard that she snorted.

"Way to make a fellow feel good on his wedding day, Granger," he said. He pushed himself away from her, but still held her hand. "Maybe I won't marry you after all."

"Oh go on, you love me. You'll marry me still," she said, without a doubt.

"Don't push your luck, SWEETHEART," he said that last part loudly. He took the hand he was holding and brought it up to his mouth and kissed her open palm. "I remember how you liked that, my little Dorothy," he said. He let his tongue flick on the center of her palm again, and then placed her hand on his heart, with his hand covering hers. "Do you feel that? That's my heart's beating only for you."

"Hey, I just had a thought," she said, suddenly distracted.

"Well, your thinking isn't that rare of a thing, but do tell," he said, still holding her hand, and stroking the top with his thumb.

"Very funny," she rolled her eyes, "No, I just thought, you aren't going to say anything crude during your vows, are you? I mean nothing to do with sex, right? Maybe I really should have a look at them."

Draco said, "They are my vows until I recite them to you, and then you can have them and do what you want. I won't ruin the moment by telling them to you before hand. You'll just have to trust me."

She removed her hand from his and told him, "It's just so hard to trust you sometimes."

"You wound me," he said, "If you're that concerned, then you should have let us have the traditional ceremony, and we wouldn't have had to write our own vows. It's on your head if I say something crude or lascivious. I might accidentally mention you breaking my pelvic bone in the shower, or maybe I'll say that I loved making love to you in my father's car."

"Draco, you better not mention either of those things," she said lightly, but meaning every word.

"Maybe I'll say I knew I loved you when I had to jack off in the words, after that talented little thing you did to my hand in the car," he said with a very straight face.

"Please, Draco, just tell me what you wrote, just so I can relax," she pleaded.

"But, I like the element of surprise," he said honestly, "don't you?"

Hermione laughed and said, "Hello, my name is Hermione Granger, and apparently we've never met. You know I don't like surprises!"

"We don't have time for all of this," he argued, "It must be about time for the ceremony to start."

Hermione smiled and said, "They can't start the ceremony without the bride and groom. We have time. Stop avoiding this."

Just then Harry Potter came around the corner. "We've all been looking for you, and Draco's right, you don't have time for whatever it is you're doing. It's time for the ceremony to start." He must have overheard part of their conversation. "What's going on anyway? Is something wrong?" he asked Hermione and gave Draco a dirty look.

"Yes, well, Harry," Hermione started, "Draco is having second thoughts, so I just need a few moments to convince him, okay. Just give us a moment longer, Harry." Harry nodded, smiled at his best friend, and kissed her on her cheek.

He shouldered past Draco, bumping him very hard in the process and said, "Hurt her at all, and die an untimely death." He was serious.

After Draco and Hermione watched Harry go back around the side of the building, Draco turned to Hermione and exclaimed, "Why the hell did you tell him I was having second thoughts?"

"Well, he wouldn't have believed that I was having second thoughts, and he already doesn't like you, so I didn't see the problem. Anyway, this buys us some more time," Hermione reasoned.

Draco pointed at Hermione and said, "That bastard wants to make you a widow before you even become a wife!"

"Don't overreact. He probably wouldn't really kill you. He probably would only curse you," Hermione said. Draco was less than convinced.

"Listen, the thing is, Draco," Hermione was stammering, "not everyone would appreciate your type of sense of humour. Some might be offended. I wrote a set of vows for you to read, in case you forgot to write some. Do you want to see them?" She started to take the vows she wrote _to him_ out of the bodice of her dress, acting like they were ones she wrote for him to give her. She didn't really write him vows to say.

"You little witch. I can't believe you wrote vows for me to recite to you. You must think I have the mental capacity of a three year old." He really seemed upset.

"Ha, these are my vows! I was just joking with you," she held the piece of parchment up and started to put it back in her dress, when he grabbed them from her.

"Let's have a look, Granger. See what you really think of me," he said as he unfolded the paper, and turned his shoulder to her. She tried to reach in front of him to grab the paper back from him.

"Don't read that!" she practically screamed, but it was too late. He had already started reading.

When he grabbed the paper from her, he thought it was perhaps blank, or maybe she really did write vows for him to recite. He never imagined she would have had to write her own vows on a piece of paper. He figured she would have memorized them. He started reading and saw that these were indeed the vows she wrote to say to him. When he started reading, he just couldn't stop. He was obligated to finish. He could barely believe the words he was reading. The sentiment and the thoughts she wrote were so profound and full of love. When he finished, he looked up to tell her just how much he loved her, but she was nowhere to be found.


	31. 31 The Wedding Part II

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 31: The Wedding, Part II:**

Draco turned around in a circle. Where had she gone? She said she didn't have her wand, so he knew she hadn't apparated. He ran around to the front of the building. There, on the steps leading to the doors, sat Hermione, with her head in her hands.

He ran up to her. He didn't know what to say, therefore, he said the first thing that popped into his mind, "See, it doesn't feel good when someone ruins your surprise, does it?" Even he wanted to call himself 'idiot'. He sat beside her and added, "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I started reading, thinking it was what you had written for me to say, and when I read the words that you wrote, I couldn't stop. That was amazing." He tried to hand the piece of parchment back to her, but she shook her head.

"Go on and keep it. I'm not about to say all of that now, and you're right; it doesn't feel good to have your surprise ruined. Payback is a bitch. I'm sorry I ruined your engagement surprise, and I know you're sorry about this," Hermione said, still looking at the ground. He stuffed the parchment in his pocket; it was precious to him, like gold. He took her hand.

"So, what are you planning on saying to me now?" he asked with a sly smile.

"I'll say, Draco Malfoy is a git, but I guess I'll marry him anyway," she sighed.

"Do you want to know what I was going to say to you?" he asked.

"No," she stood up.

"No?" he asked, "Well, it's now or never, because I'm not going to say anything to you if you don't say vows to me." He stood beside her.

"Then I guess it will be a pretty short ceremony," she said as she started in the door. He followed her. Harry was standing by the door leading into the main room and he walked up to them.

"The guests are getting restless. Are we having a wedding here or not?" he asked. He looked at Draco first, who shrugged, and then at Hermione, who nodded.

"Stall for a moment, though, won't you, Harry?" Hermione asked. Then she went into the ladies room. Draco saw Scarhead go into the banquet hall's main room, and then he looked to his left, then to his right, and went into the ladies room after Hermione.

She was in one of the stalls, actually going to the bathroom. He was mildly embarrassed. He thought maybe she was in there to compose herself or something. He never thought she might have to go to the bathroom. He went into the stall next to her, stood on the toilet, and looked down at her. "Hey, Granger," he said.

"Damn!" Hermione screamed, "You scared me!"

"Did I scare the shite out of you?" he joked, laughing at his own crude joke.

"I'm not doing that, you arse! Now get down from there," she yelled. He did as he was told, chuckling all the while, as she was calling him quite a few choice names.

"What was that last thing you just called me?" His ears perked up. "I didn't know you knew such language, and what did you call my mother?"

She exited the stall, and went to wash her hands.

He leaned against the mirror and said, "Do you want to know when I loved you? Really loved you?" She finished washing her hands and she turned to face him. He took both her hands in his. "I saw you at my office, your curly brown heading bobbing up and down as you walked down the hallway. You turned around and smiled, and my heart felt as if it might burst. I didn't even know what that feeling was. I had never felt it before. I decided right then and there I wasn't going to date anymore of those empty headed woman who were only after my money. I decided I wanted someone smart, pretty and funny. I decided I wanted Hermione Granger. My own little Cinderella, who lost her shoe under a table after the ball, and expected me, Draco Malfoy, to bend down and get it for you, and you know what, I didn't think twice about it. I bent down, touched your leg, and I had the most intense electrical feeling go through every fiber of my being and that was just from touching you."

"And on what I classified as our first date, even though you didn't, we were babysitting Potter's baby, and you looked so sweet and beautiful holding that little baby in your arms. You made me hold the baby, and I knew you tricked me into holding him just to see if I liked babies. I knew you wouldn't do that if you hadn't been harbouring the same secret hope that I had been harbouring, that maybe, one day, we might marry and have a child of our own."

"I've been through more trials and tribulations, in the last seven months that I've been with you, than I have my whole life; falling in water on your bathroom floor, being taken to a Muggle Police station, being propositioned at a gay bar, and going to a Muggle fast food place. Food poisoning, being locked in a closet, breaking several bones falling out of a shower, rolling down a hill and getting mud in my hair, having a bathtub flood and the ceiling burst over my head, but hell, who am I kidding? I wouldn't trade one of those moments, or the countless other embarrassing things that have happened, because they've all happened with you."

"We once had a discussion about 'time', right after your dad died. You said there was a time to embrace, so to you I am embracing. You said there was a time to search, but my search is over, because I found you. You said there was a time to keep, and how right you are, for you are forever mine. And last, but not least, you said there was a time to love, and you my darling, Hermione, I love you, with all my heart, soul and mind."

"You can call me an idiot the rest of your days, as long as the rest of your days are spent with me," he paused and then added, "Those are my vows to you, my little Dorothy. I no longer have to search for my heart, because you found it for me, and you no longer have to search for your home, because it's by my side."

When he finished, she was crying. He put his hands up to her face and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Those are the vows I would have said to you, Hermione Granger," he finished, "Now, I know I already read the vows you were going to say to me, but please, I want to hear them from your own sweet mouth."

Hermione took a deep breath, to level her tears, and said, "One day you asked me what love was. We were on the beach, and it was a beautiful spring day, but very cold. You held my hand and said, 'when do you know when you're in love?' And to answer you, all I had to do was look into my own heart, and tell you all the exact feelings I was feeling at that moment for you. For I thought of only you day and night, I got butterflies in my belly just at the sight of you. The touch of your hand sent electrical current everywhere. I loved laughing at your jokes, even though I didn't find most of them funny, and nothing else but you and the moments I was with you mattered. Your smile made me smile, your tears made me cry, I couldn't picture myself with anyone but you. Your happiness came before my happiness, and I am telling you the truth when I say that I would cut off my right arm rather than for you to feel pain. For you, Draco Malfoy, I would give my life."

"No one else would let me call them an idiot fifty times a day, no one else would roll down a hill for me, no one else would say they loved me if I threw an apple at them, breaking their nose. No one else would spend an entire night cuddling with me, or pinch me every other day to make sure I'm real, or go to the trouble of planning a scavenger hunt, or buy me the same book twice. No one else would do that for me but you and I wouldn't want anyone else to, anyway." She stopped and said, "As you know those are the vows I wrote, but I'd like to add something else."

"From all the silly things you've done, like leaving a hundred pounds as a tip at a fast food restaurant, where I hate to tell you Draco, but you aren't suppose to leave a tip, from playing tag with me, to all the stupid little nicknames you make up for me…for all these things, I love you so."

"You were there for me when my dad died, and you knew exactly what I needed. God, I love you so much."

"You say you knew you loved me when you saw me at your office. Well, I knew I loved you that Monday after the auction, as we stood in the street, during a thunderstorm, and I was frightened by a clap of thunder, and I fell into your arms, and I knew, right then, that in your arms I would always be safe."

"I will love you now and forever and for all of my life, and I want to be your wife." By this time, not only was Hermione crying, but so was Draco, although he was trying hard to hold it back.

So, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy exchanged their vows right there in the ladies bathroom at the banquet hall where they were to get married, with all their guests oblivious to the exchange, expect for one.

Harry Potter had walked into the bathroom only moments after he saw Draco enter. He only walked in to see if the marriage was going to take place, or if it was to be called off. He heard every word they had said to each other. He walked quietly out of the room, shut the door, and gave them their privacy. He had to compose himself for a moment, but then he went into the banquet hall and made an announcement. He told everyone that the wedding was a go, and the couple would be joining them soon. He stood by the door and thought that maybe he didn't hate Draco Malfoy quite as much as he used to.

Moments later, after Hermione and Draco stopped crying, and had kissed and exchanged embraces; they walked out of the restroom, and started to walk in the banquet hall. Draco stopped Hermione for a moment and said, "We don't have vows to say to each other now."

She looked at him, smiled, and said, "Why don't we just wing it. Hell, we could even say the same thing again; No one in there will know the difference."

He hugged her tight and said, "I love you more and more each day, and do you want to know why? Because you think more and more like me everyday." This made her laugh.

She said, "Draco, go back in the restroom and get me some tissues, in case I cry again."

"What's wrong with my sleeve?" he joked, but he turned around and went back into the ladies room to get her some tissues. He figured that was something people did when they were in love; they went into ladies rooms and got their true loves tissues.

He was going to say that to her when he walked out, but she brought him down to reality when she said, "Draco, you didn't have to go into the ladies room, again. The men's room is right next to it." He turned around and saw that she was right, so he kept his theories about love to himself and handed her the tissues.

Draco went and told Potter that they were ready to start the ceremony. Harry and Ron took their place at the end of the room, and Hermione and Draco went back to their dressing rooms.

The music started. It was a classical piece by Chopin, which Hermione's parents had played at their wedding. Draco walked in and took his place at the end of the velvet runner. Harry and Ron waited for Hermione. She came in, and the crowd stood. A hush filled the hall. The only thing anyone could hear was the music. Her beauty was deafening. She stood between her two best friends and they walked her down the aisle in her father's stead. Hermione felt her heart beating so loudly, that she knew soon everyone would ponder what that loud noise was. She was shaking as well. Harry and Ron had to physically hold her upright.

When she reached the end of the aisle, Draco took her hand. He smiled at her and she smiled back. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Take a deep breath and cheer up, it's your wedding day." She took a deep breath, and the Officiate began the ceremony.

They did repeat their vows, with just slight variations. Draco had to be a prat and mention a few crude things, like instead of just mentioning his broken bones, he mentioned how they were broken (sex in the shower), to which the congregation laughed. Hermione's vows were altered slightly as well, but that was to counter claim the variations in his. By the time they were finished, Hermione was once again in tears, as was most of their friends and family.

As soon as the ceremony ended, the Officiate announced that Draco could kiss his bride. He put his left hand behind her head, and his right hand behind her waist, and dipped her low, and kissed her hard. Everyone laughed, and when he brought her upright, she hit his chest and said, "Idiot."

The room magically changed for the reception. The bridal party, which was small, sat at the front of the room at a square table, and the rest of the crowd sat at round tables scattered around the room. They feasted on canapés of herb crusted seared tuna, for cocktails they had Italian Wedding cookies, for the main course they had rack of lamb with English mustard and thyme crust, and the cake was a three-tiered lemon raspberry sponge cake.

The party was in full swing and the bride and groom stood up for their first dance. They went to the middle of the room and Draco took Hermione in his arms. As they danced, the guests soon joined them.

Draco said, "See, happy endings come true in real life too, not just in fairytales."

To which Hermione responded, "You just may be right, but this is a fairytale. In fact, it is many fairytales wrapped into one. This is the best day of my life."

Draco kissed her cheek and said, "You are the best **thing** in my life."

After their dance they went back to their table. Draco pulled out Hermione's seat, and she sat down. When he pulled out his own, he saw a silver package with a bright green bow. The card said, "To my husband."

"Hermione?" Draco held up the package.

"Yes dear?"

"Is this what I think it is?" he asked.

"I have no idea what goes on in that head of yours, so how would I know what you think it is. Open it and find out," Hermione begged.

He sat down and opened the package. Inside was, of course, "**Hogwarts, a History".**

Draco sighed and said, in exasperation, "Hermione, you will never win the book war, so give it up. Let me explain," he put the book down and continued, "I gave you the book at the auction, you gave it to me at the coffee shop, so we were tied one to one."

Hermione interjected, "I actually threw it in the trash bin at the coffee shop, but it's so nice of you to count that as one for me."

Draco smirked, and continued again, "Then I gave it to you that day in the alley, when you claim I accosted you. You hid it in the pizza box. Again, that tied us at two for two."

"Is this going to be a long explanation, because I would like to continue to eat my cake," she said, acting board.

Draco said, "You can eat while I talk, that's never stopped you before. Where was I, oh yes, next I believe I put it in the trunk of your car, and you had it delivered to me by courier at the hotel, so three to three. Dress bag for you, hanging in the shower for me, four to four."

She interrupted and said, "You're glossing over those last two; brings back bad memories perhaps, something about mistaking someone for someone?"

He ignored her and said, "Next, I believe I filled your house with daisies, and put the book on your bed."

"Guilty conscious, trying to make up from mistaking someone for someone," Hermione surmised, "but, please continue."

"I'll never continue if you keep interrupting," he waned, "That makes us five for five. I gave it to you to at my house the night we played tag, for the money for the auction, which was a big mistake on my part, and you then left it on my pillow, so six to six. Next, I left it in your desk drawer, bigger mistake, because you really sold the blasted thing. At that point, I was seven to your six. Do you begin to see the point of my story? I was already ahead by that time."

"I see some inconsistencies and holes in your explanation, but if you must continue then please do." She actually yawned.

"I forgot where I was," he said sincerely. He took a moment to think, and finally said, "Oh yes, I arranged for you to win the bloody thing at the raffle, so the score was then eight to six, in my favour. I don't count all that stupid passing back and forth at my office that day, so even with you giving it to me today, you, my dear, are still painfully losing. The score as of today is eight to me and seven to you. You'll never catch up to me. I feel so sorry for you."

Draco reached in front of her and took her cake and started to eat it. The cogs in her head were spinning. She apparently hadn't given it as much thought as he had. She thought this would tie them up. She went through everything he said, not even noticing he had taken her cake, because she was concentrating on what he had just told her. Damn him, he was right. She would always be one behind.

"I can see that overly developed mind spinning my dear. You do see that I am correct, don't you?" Draco laughed. "I know how much you hate it when I'm right about something."

She did hate that. Then, she got a wonderful idea. A devious and evil idea, which made her smile, because she had only been a Malfoy for little over two hours, and she was already thinking like one. He turned to her, saw her smile, and said, "What are you plotting?"

"It's my wedding day; I'm just enjoying myself," she lied. "Come, we need to pose for some pictures."

They posed for their pictures, and danced some more. They had a wonderful evening. The reception was dying down, and it was almost time for the bride and the groom to get ready to leave for their honeymoon. Hermione had Ginny come with her to help her remove her gown. Draco was still in the banquet hall, talking to the guests. He was reminded by Harry that he had better get changed for the honeymoon. He went back over to the table, to collect the book and it was missing. He looked under the chair, on the table, on the floor, everywhere. It was just gone. How could he tell Hermione that the book was gone? Damn! Someone took the blasted book while they were dancing. He knows she didn't take it, because she was by his side the entire night.

They changed their clothes and left hand in hand, out of the front doors of the banquet hall. They were going to drive back to the Grand Marsh Hotel, spend their wedding night there, and then spend a week at their cottage that they had bought. Hermione insisted they drive her old car, and he agreed. He even told her she could drive.

They waved goodbye to their guests, kissed their friends goodbye, and drove up the coast. When they arrived at the hotel, Hermione told Draco to check them in, as she needed to use the facilities. He checked them in and as he was signing the registration form the clerk told him the hotel wanted to present the happy couple with a wedding present. Draco took the box from the man, thanked him, and decided to go ahead and open it without Hermione.

He no sooner got the lid off, when he saw that it contained the damn book! Now how did she arrange this? There was a note tied with a string, on the front. The note said: _"We are now tied eight to eight. Don't ever underestimate me again. Love, Hermione."_

He took the book, put it on the cart with the luggage and asked the bellman to deliver everything to their room.

He waited for her outside the restroom. "We got a wedding present from the hotel, apparently. I had it sent up to our room with our luggage," he smirked.

She smiled a large smile and said, "Just admit it; you admire me for my ingenuity."

"I admire you for a great deal of things, my little lima bean," he joked.

"Oh my goodness, you will not call me names like that ever again," she scolded as she pointed at him.

"Come here." He was leaning against the wall.

"Please grow up, Malfoy. I'm not going to 'come here', so don't ask," Hermione said reproachfully.

"I know you won't, but it doesn't hurt to ask," Draco admitted.

"Don't try to use reverse psychology on me, Mister Malfoy," she said, walking down the hall, He ran up behind her, and pulled her back toward the ladies room, and then looked around, and saw no one, and pushed her back in the restroom she had just left.

He pushed her up against the door and said, "Do you want to know what one of my fantasies is?" He started to kiss her neck.

"I'm not spending my wedding night having sex in a woman's room!" Hermione was appalled. She pushed him away.

"I didn't say my fantasy was to have sex in a woman's room. You really have a crude mind, don't you, Granger, I mean, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Fine, tell me your fantasy. It won't come true, I'm sure, but enlighten me," she said, holding him at arms length.

"Okay, it is to have sex in a woman's room," he admitted. She pushed him away and started to walk back down the hall to the lifts. He looked dejected and followed.

"Is this one of those no sex honeymoons? Is that a Muggle tradition or something?" he barked as they entered the lift.

As soon as the doors shut, Hermione pushed him up against the wall of the lift, took out her wand, and stopped the elevator cold. He was shocked beyond belief.

She said, "Why must we always do your fantasies? The only one I've gotten to come to fruition was the car one." She kissed him sensually.

He was breathing hard and said, "What? The lifts?" She nodded her head and he said, "My goodness, I really, really love you."

She pushed him away, and said, "Now who has the dirty mind? The lifts? I swear. I was joking. No, I just want to be alone with you for a moment, to tell you my fantasy."

"You're an evil, evil, witch!" Draco almost yelled. "Get me all excited and hard, and tease me, and make me think we're going to have hot sex in the lifts…I don't think I love you after all." He turned from her and folded his arms.

She stood there and waited. He would turn around soon. His curiosity would get the better of him. Any minute. She knew him well. She just had to wait…and then it came.

"Fine, tell me your fucking fantasy!" he moped.

"My fantasy," Hermione began, coming close to him and putting her arms around his neck, "is to make love on my wedding night, to the man I love, the man I'm going to spend the rest of my days and nights with, the man I intend to have children with, the man who loves me more than anyone else."

"Goodness, Granger, how many men does that make?" he joked.

She hit his arm, and turned away, but he grabbed her waist, and pulled her back up against his chest, and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I think that sounds like the best fantasy I've ever heard. Start the lift so we can commence." He kissed her cheek. She started the lift.

When they reached their room, Draco took Hermione's hands and said, "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known." He said it so seriously. She kissed his lips. He returned her kisses gently, but with passion. They walked hand in hand to the bedroom, and he started to remove her clothes. He took off her blouse and then her skirt. He gently guided her to the bed, where she sat. He put his hand on the back of one knee and removed her shoe. He reached up, brushed his fingers along the top seams of her thigh high stockings, and rolled the first one down. He did the same with the other leg. After he rolled the second stocking down, he kept that leg in his grasp, and kissed her calf, and then her knee, and then her inner thigh.

He gently pushed her back, and as she lay back on the bed, he put one hand on her stomach. The other hand he used to remove her baby blue panties. The ones he bought her for her 'something blue.' He opened her legs slightly, so he could bring his body up next to the bed as he kneeled on the floor, and he reached up and put one hand on each breast. He outlined each breast with his fingertips, and rubbed the tips of each bra covered nipples with his thumbs. He reached up for the straps, and pulled them down her arms. She reached behind her back and unclasped the bra. He would soon be sated by the feast that was laid out before him.

She was nervous, how silly. They had made love countless times, but she was shaking. He stood up and undressed. She didn't take her eyes off him once. He told her, as he was removing his shirt, "This night will be special, Hermione," and she knew that it would.

He kneeled back on the floor, in front of the bed, and put his hands on her hips. He pulled her body closer toward him, so that she was on the edge of the bed. He pushed her legs apart again, and he blew on the tufts of hair that covered her cleft. She laughed. He started kissing her thighs, and he sprinkled kisses across her stomach and hips. He was teasing her. He wanted her to really want him. He wanted to take this slow and to make this last. He laid his cheek on her lower abdomen, and held her by her waist. He let his head rise and fall with the rise and fall of her breathing. He rested his chin on her belly, and she was up on her elbows, looking at him. He climbed up her stomach, and sat beside her on the bed. He gently stroked her right breast, with a feathery soft touch, and then her left. He was almost too gentle, too soft. He had yet to touch her areolas or the tips. He was content for the moment in the simple pleasure he was performing, and she was enjoying it, too.

He moved up farther toward the head of the bed. As he did, she moved to her side, and then crawled up his length. It was her turn. She traced the definition of his muscles on his legs, up to his hips and then his groin. She laid both hands flat on his abdomen. She brushed her palms up and down his chest and then across his shoulders and down his arms. It was like she wanted to memorize every inch of him.

As she stroked his body, his hands came up to her breasts, and were tweaking her nipples, gently but firm. She straddled his abdomen, careful to avoid his groin, and bent at the waist and kissed him on the mouth. He opened his mouth to receive her tongue. His hands moved to her lower back, and then her buttocks. She fell to her side, and he moved to his side to face her. They continued to kiss each other, as their hands stroked each other's bodies. He indicated to her that she needed to lie on her back, so she did. He kissed her stomach. His tongue swirled in her navel and she started giggling and couldn't seem to stop, even after he stopped. He looked at her amused, and she finally stopped laughing.

"May I continue now, or are you going to keep laughing at me?" he asked.

"It was ticklish, that's all," she complained. She then grew silent, to indicate that he should continue. He put one breast in his hand, and kissed the other. He kissed her breast, first one, then the other, never biting, sucking or licking, just kissing, first the nipples, and then the valley between. His kisses alone were enough to make her start to arch her body off the bed, and to shut her eyes in bliss. He loved this part. He loved making her want him.

He put his finger softly between her legs, as he continued to kiss her breasts. He didn't move that hand for the longest time. It was just there, applying gentle pressure. He kissed her ribs, and her side. He tenderly bit her hip. Finally, as he moved his mouth lower, he started to slightly move his hand. He applied moderate pressure, never more. He didn't enter his fingers in her. He just kept his open hand on her.

She was starting to move her hips as if she was performing a dance to music that only they could hear. He placed himself strategically between her legs now, and brought her legs up so her knees were bent. He pushed her legs apart and began to tease her with the tip of his tongue. He played with her, kissed her, but was still lingering, keeping her at the brink. He really wanted to make her come more intensely than she ever had, which meant he couldn't rush a thing. He wanted her to have an endless night of pleasure.

He brought his face back up to hers and kissed her deep and warm. He put his hand down to ease her ache, and this time he did more than apply pressure. His warm fingers teased and taunted her, stroked and caressed, until she was cresting with her first wave of climax. Her hips came up off the bed, and he wasn't sure he could take it as slow as he originally wanted. He wanted to be inside her, to fill her up. He wanted it, so he took what was rightfully his.

He wanted to cover every inch of her flesh with his. His breathing was erratic and ragged. He needed her now. He put his mouth down on her mouth so hard, that she seemed to growl. He moved between her legs, and he entered her with a swift and hard stroke, and they became virtually one person, his hard muscles on top of her soft ones. She loved when he pressed his hard long body against hers.

He was overwhelmed momentarily with his hunger for her. It consumed him. He buried his head in her neck, and bit her hard, harder than he intended, but she was at that moment biting his shoulder, so he did it as a reflex. He arched his back for the final act, as he felt her body clutching his, and as she was calling his name over and over, he released his passion and broke down the final barrier between them, so that they came together for the first time that evening, but not the last.

Afterwards, he cradled her body next to his, and she tenderly stroked her fingers back and forth across his chest. She leaned up on one elbow and stared at him. His eyes were still closed, but he was just spent from their lovemaking, he wasn't asleep. She kissed his jaw, and then his neck. He opened his eyes and softly caressed her face. "Go to sleep," he commanded. He knew he needed sleep, so surely she did as well. She reached down, pulled the covers of the bed over them both, and they fell asleep.

Hermione felt well rested, the next day, all things considering. She sat up and stretched her arms high above her head. She climbed out of the bed, put on her white silk robe, and went to find her husband. He was sitting on the balcony, in a black silk robe, reading "**Hogwarts, a History".**

"This is a fascinating book," he said, not looking up, but making room for her next to him on the chaise lounge. She snuggled close to him and he put one arm around her, and held the book with the other.

"You mean you've never read this before?" she asked, incredulously.

"Heavens, no, why would I?" He turned to look at her. "But, I've decided something, Mrs. Malfoy," he said.

She laughed for a second, having him call her 'Mrs. Malfoy' amused her, and said, "And what is that, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I'm not giving you this book back," he said as he continued to read.

"And pray tell, is it really that interesting?" Hermione stared up at his face.

He turned to look at her, closed the book, and put in on the ground by the chair. He pulled her up into his lap, so she was closer to him, and he put both arms around her. He didn't answer for a moment, but as she was still staring at his face, he finally looked back at her and said, "I've decided that this book war must end. It's not healthy for us. We can't always have competition between us. If I keep the book, it will always be a tie."

He continued to stare at her, trying to be somber and serious, and she said, "That's not it at all!" She hit his arm and climbed off his lap. She stood by his chair. He came to stand next to her.

"Tell me what you think my reason is then, my little omelet?" He smiled broadly.

She pointed her finger at his chest and said, "One more stupid nickname and I'll sue you for divorce so fast that your head will spin. I didn't sign any pre-nuptial agreement, let me remind you. I'll take you for everything you have!"

"You're getting woefully off track, my dear little buttercup." He grabbed her before she could go ballistic again, and hugged her tight. He kissed her to keep her from yelling at him, and said, "Now, tell me why you think I'm keeping the book."

"You're afraid I'll figure out a way to win the book war, and you're scared, so you would rather call it a draw," she deduced, looking up at him, and still trying to wiggle from his arms.

"That sounds about right." He kissed the top of her head and let her go.

He sat back down and picked up the book and to hand it to her, and said, "It's our honeymoon, so let's not fight. Come and sit beside me and read to me from **my** book." She took the book and sat beside him.

"It's really still my book, you know," she said.

"If you say so." He smiled as he hugged her tight. "But, if that's the case, then I win. Let's not worry about that now, just read to me. I didn't get much sleep last night. Maybe the sound of your voice droning on and on will put me to sleep, I know it usually does."

She glared at him for a moment, called him "Idiot", but then opened the book to the first page and started to read. He pinched her once, but then he held her tight in his arms, and listened to every word.

The End

_(Unless you want to read the Epilogue and the postscript, which are chapters 32 and 33!)_


	32. 32 The Epilogue

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 32: The Epilogue****:**

Hermione Malfoy was waiting for a very important meeting. She had to reschedule this meeting twice. She didn't want the man she was meeting with to think that she didn't value his time or want his business. Short of a hurricane or a nuclear explosion, nothing would make her miss the meeting this time.

She was sitting at her desk at Malfoy Enterprises, nervous as hell. Since she had become head of marketing and public relations over eight months ago, she had turned the reputation of this company around, and nothing was going to ruin that for her. Not even the sudden appearance of a certain blonde haired CEO who took that exact moment to barge into her office and plop down on one of her chairs.

She didn't even look up at him. He was like a bad rash. If you ignored it, sometimes it went away. He could tell she was ignoring him, and he thought, 'really, how rude.' "Mrs. Malfoy, what do you have planned for today?" he asked, throwing a glass paperweight Harry had bought for her up in the air before catching it.

"Go away, Malfoy, I'm getting ready for an important meeting," she said.

"With whom?" he wondered aloud.

"It's none of your concern," she said, not even looking at him.

"This is my company, so I think it's my concern," he said back. He really didn't care. She could meet with whomever she wanted. He was just trying to irritate her.

"Listen, Malfoy, I've been trying to meet with this man for two weeks! I've already had to cancel twice, and both times were your fault. He'll be here any minute, and I won't have you interfering, now leave!" She pointed toward the door.

He stood up, sat on the corner of her desk, directly in front of her and pushed her hand, which was still suspended in the air, gently down to her lap. "Why must you be so hostile all the time?" he asked.

"Please, leave," she said softly.

"Why can't I stay for the meeting?" he asked sincerely.

Her assistance came in right at that moment and said, "Mr. Murphy is here to see you, Hermione."

"Thank you, Gail," Hermione said, "Please, show him to the little conference room at the end of the hall, and get him some coffee. I'll be right there." She stood up and started to walk away, but couldn't move, as her husband had his hand tightly around her arm.

"Mrs. Malfoy, haven't you learn anything by being married to me? We can't have secrets, we have to share everything, or our marriage will crumble," he said.

She looked at him with wide-eyes and laughed and said, "You sound like a bloody inspiration speaker. Seriously, get a grip. I'll have all the secrets I want. You're the one who can't have secrets." Hermione pushed him so hard he fell off the corner of her desk.

"You wound me, my little woman," he said from the floor. She walked across him, not over him, but stepped directly on his chest and left her office.

Draco wouldn't be deterred, even though she may have fractured one of his ribs by stepping on his chest like that. If he had learned anything by being married to Hermione, it was that perseverance paid off, so he walked out to Gail, her assistant, and sat on her desk. Maybe she could be wooed by his charms.

"Hello, beautiful," he said to Gail.

"I won't tell you what's going on, sorry," she answered, "but nice touch. Hermione told me you would try to be charming."

Fine, let her have her little secrets. He didn't care in the least. He decided to go home, since he really had nothing to do, and it was almost 5:00 pm. He rarely had anything to do at work anymore, because she pretty much ran the whole business.

He went home and had the house elves prepare a nice dinner for them. He opened a vintage bottle of wine, and waited for her to come home. He waited, and waited, and waited. She never came home. He apparated back to the office to find her, since she usually let him know if she was going to be late.

He went to her office first, and she wasn't there. He walked around the outer office, peeked in different rooms, checked out the conference room, and still no Hermione. Maybe she ran away with this bloke. Of course, he didn't really think that, but he was worried.

He was just about to go back home, when he heard his wife crying from the ladies bathroom. Since he was no stranger to the ladies room, he ushered himself on in and found her sitting in the corner, on the floor, with her legs up against her chest, crying.

He bent down, and without saying a word, he pulled her into his arms. It always broke his heart to see her so upset. He had seen her through a lot of tough times, and each time was harder than the last. Instead of becoming insensitive to her pain, it seemed it affected him more and more each time.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked and he brushed her hair away from her face.

"Mr. Murphy decided he didn't want to do business with me," she explained.

"So, why do we care?" He didn't even know who the hell this man was, or what his business was, but he did know it was strange for her to take a bad business deal this hard.

She tried to take a couple of deep breaths before she spoke. "Draco, Mr. Murphy had nothing to do with Malfoy Enterprises. He was meeting me about a personal matter."

She had his attention. "Why was he meeting with you?" he asked her.

"I think I'm too embarrassed to tell you," she muttered into his chest.

He continued to stroke her hair and said, "After everything we've been through, how could anything embarrass you? Hell, you haven't even really done anything embarrassing since we've met, not when compared with my antics," he reasoned. "Now tell me what's going on, my love?"

She looked up at him and stood suddenly. "Stay there," she said, and she ran from the bathroom.

Was she serious? Couldn't he have gone to where she was going? He sat back with his legs crossed out straight in front of him and started to whistle. Then he remembered how much she hated whistling, and he didn't want to cause her anymore distress, so he immediately stopped.

She came back in the restroom, and he stood up. She had a package.

"That's not "**Hogwarts, a History"** is it?" he asked, wearily. So far, he was still beating her in that game, by two turns so far, and he liked it that way.

"Goodness, Malfoy, be sensible." She rolled her eyes. He took the package from her, and opened the lid of the box. It was a manuscript.

"What is this?" he asked.

"It's a book I've written. In my spare time," she said.

"When do you have spare time?" he asked, as he placed the box on one of the sinks, and started thumbing through the pages. It was probably 800 pages long.

She didn't answer his question, but instead said, "Mr. Murphy is a publisher. Supposedly the best publisher in the business, and I was hoping he would publish my book. He met with me last month, and promised to read it. The meeting today was to see if he thought it was good enough to be published."

"And?" Draco implored her to continue.

"He said it was vapid, boring, and it was sheer agony to read." She sat on the floor once more, and started to cry again.

Instead of comforting his wife, he picked up the first page and started to read. He sat up on the sink, and continued to read. He sat there, on the sink vanity, and read for over two hour. He read so long that Hermione had not only stopped crying, but had gone to get something to eat, had gone to the bathroom twice, and was now lying on the floor, fast asleep.

He came to the end of another chapter and stretched. He looked down and saw his wife asleep on the floor. He looked at his watch, and saw that two hours had passed. Two hours had passed, and he had not even noticed, because he was so engrossed in his wife's book.

He thought it was a wonderful piece of literature. He thought that publisher was crazy. It was a story of a young girl named Harriett and her next door neighbor, a boy named David, and how they became friends with a little woman who lived down their lane, and found out that she was once a magical princess, who was sent to their land as punishment by her uncle when her father died, because he wanted control of their land. She made the children promise to help her get back home. Each chapter contained different adventures that the children went through, trying to return the princess to her land.

He thought it was wonderful. He could tell she wrote it as a piece of literature aimed toward children, but he thought adults would like it was well. He didn't bother to wake her up; he just took off his jacket, transfigured it to a blanket, and put in around her body. He sat down on the floor beside her and finished reading her story.

When the morning came, Draco had finally finished the story. Hermione had woken up long before, and had gone home to shower and change her clothing. He went to see if she was in her office. She was. He came in, put the box with her manuscript on her desk and said, "So, one question remains, Mrs. Malfoy, and that is, what you are going to do about this story?"

"What can I do? The publisher didn't like it," she complained.

"I liked it," he said.

"You're not a publisher," she pointed out.

"Fine, but aren't there other publishers out there?" he asked as he leaned his elbows on her desk, and rested his head on them. He was finally starting to feel tired from reading her book all night.

"I suppose there are," she reasoned.

"So, find one of them and have them publish it," he said, as if she should have already thought of that. "I think you should take it to a Muggle publisher," he added.

"But Draco, what if they don't like it?" she asked, worried.

He stood up and walked over to her. "I am too tired this morning to enable you. If you want to give up, go ahead. I'm going home to bed, but I'll say one more thing, and that is that it's a wonderful story. Even if I wasn't married to you, I would say that. I hope you make the right decision, but even if you don't, I will probably still love you." He turned, waved, and disapparated home.

Later that day, he was sitting on one of the couches in their living room, reading the paper when she came in and sat beside him. He put his paper down and said, "Well, what did you decide?"

"I took it to another publisher. A smaller publisher, actually, a Muggle publisher," she said, staring out into space.

"And? Get on with the story," he said, really interested.

"They thought it was great! They loved it! They want to publish it! I should have taken it to a Muggle publisher all along! I love you so much!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly.

"I love you too, my little pork chop," he said, "Oh, and by the way, I love all the references in your book about our world. See, that's why it works better in the Muggle world, because they love all that magic crap. To us, it's just a way of life, to them, it's thrilling, delightful, you know. I especially like how you made the main characters resemble us. The girl's name starts with an H and she has curly brown hair, and the boy's name starts with a D and he's blond and dashing."

"I never wrote him as dashing. He's actually like the comic sidekick, so I guess he is like you," she joked.

He pulled her into a tight embrace, and kissed her longingly. She held up a piece of paper and said, "Here, for you."

It was a Muggle check. "I don't want your money," he said seriously.

"I want to give it to you. Think of all the things you've given me over the past year and a half, please, take it," she said, putting her head on his shoulder.

"Fine, I'll take it," he said, folding it in half and putting it in his pocket.

They sat next to each other for the longest time, holding each other tight, when she finally spoke. "I have one more present for you, and I hope you'll accept it as well, but please, don't fold it up and put it in your pocket," she said, sitting slightly away from him, with a worried look on her face.

"I don't want "**Hogwarts, a History",**" he said, standing up, holding his hands in front of his body.

She stood as well and said, "For goodness sakes, Malfoy, I don't even know where that bloody book is at the moment, so stop worrying, you're still the king of the book wars." She shook her head, in utter amazement at his level of maturity.

He took her hands and said, "Fine, we have that settle, I'm ready for my other present, go head, give it to me, and make it good."

"I don't have it yet, but it'll be delivered in about six months," she said with a smile, thinking he would guess her surprise right away.

"What the hell kind of present takes six months to be delivered?" he asked with a scowl.

She cocked her head to the side and said, "Think about it for a moment. I'm going to go get something to eat, oh, and by the way, I'm giving you my two weeks notice, since I'm now a published author," and she left the room, swaying her hips as she headed toward the kitchen.

He knitted his brows for a moment, having only heard the last part of her statement, where she gave her two weeks notice. He started walking behind her to go to the kitchen as well when her previous statement came back to him in a wave of sudden understanding.

"HEY! Mrs. Malfoy!" he yelled, running into the kitchen, "Are you having a baby?"

"No," she said.

What the bloody hell? He was sure that was it. Oh well, plenty of time for that.

She could see his crestfallen look and amended her answer. "I'm not having a baby, but, we are."

He stood with his mouth open and he felt like someone had petrified him. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, and he didn't even know what to think. A baby, a little baby, they were having a baby.

She walked up to him and put her arms around his waist. He hugged her back, still in shock. "Are you okay, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so," he said slowly, and then he took a very deep breath. "Are we really having a baby?' he asked.

"Really, really," she said, kissing his lips.

"I like little babies," he said.

"I know you do, that's why I'm having one," she said with a smile.

"This is the perfect end to your story. You should make your story a series, and have the kids grow up, and fall in love, and at the end they could have a baby," he suggested.

"Okay, who's the writer here? That won't work. Especially in a book aimed at children. I mean, the series idea is good. I was thinking maybe seven or eight books, but I don't see them getting married, or having kids, but maybe I'll write an epilogue at the end of the last book, and mention something about that," Hermione conceded.

"Just so you have Harriett marry David at the end, and not that buffoon Robert," Draco said, with a smile.

"Fine, she can marry David, not Robert, and they can have a bunch of kids, and live happily ever after, satisfied?" she asked.

"More than you know," he said back, kissing his wife and holding her tight. He thought, after all, everyone deserved their happy ending.

THE END - but not really!


	33. 33 The Postscript

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 33: The Postscript****:**

Draco Malfoy sat in the living room of the house he shared with his wife and small son. He sat in his favourite, comfortable chair, reading his wife's newest manuscript. It was the story of a man, who was lost, with a heart made of stone, and a woman who found him, and gave him a change of heart. Unlike her first book, this wasn't a children's novel. No, this was a love story, and the story of their life together. She may not have meant for it to be such, but it was. There were slight differences, here and there, but for the most part, it told their love story to a tee.

He heard his wife walking down the stairs. She was singing. She had their toddler on her hip. She said, "Say, hello to your poppa."

Draco put the manuscript down and walked up to Hermione and Henry. "Hello little boy," Draco said to his son, holding his plump little hand in his and kissing it lightly. He took his son from his wife and raised him high above his head.

Hermione said, "Draco, be careful."

"Do you seriously think I would drop my child? My heir? The fruit of my loins?" Draco asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Fruit is about right. Give me my son," and she reached up for the baby.

"He's my son," Draco said.

"No, he's my son," Hermione said, putting the baby down in his playpen.

"He's your son when he cries at night," Draco reminded.

"He's your son when his nappies are dirty," Hermione said with a laugh. She saw that her manuscript was on the coffee table. She bent down, picked it up, and said, "What do you think?"

He took the manuscript from her hands and said, "I should sue you for liable. This is the story of you and I."

"No, it's fiction," she reminded, adding, "And it's you and me."

"That's what I said," he stated. He sat back down with the manuscript.

"No, I was correcting your grammar. It should be you and me, not you and I," she said, sitting beside him. She put her head on his shoulder.

"You say it your way, and I'll say it mine," he said, tweaking her nose.

"My way is the right way," she said.

"Of course, it always is," he sighed.

She took the manuscript from him and said, "Draco, tell me truthfully what you think. I know it's different from my other book, but I'm rather proud of it, and so far everyone who has read it has really liked it." She looked pensively at him.

"I like it as well, it's just personal things are mentioned, and I don't like that," he said truthfully. He picked the text back up and leafed through the pages. "See, here on page 213, you have the chap falling out of a shower, while they're having sex, and breaking his leg."

"So?" she asked.

"You can't say you didn't draw on our personal experience for that part," he said as he gave her a glare.

"You broke your pelvis and your hip that time you fell, not your leg. Different bones completely." She grinned.

He squinted at her with one eye, and then turned to another section. "How about in this part, page 127. You have the woman taking the man into a gay bar," he pointed out, opening the manuscript on that page and plopping it in her lap.

"In this story it is a leather bar. It was no such thing in real life, just a friendly, neighbourhood establishment," she reasoned.

He stood up, went over to the baby and covered his small ears. "It's embarrassing, Mrs. Malfoy! I don't want Henry thinking his father is a dolt who went around breaking hips, going to gay bars, getting arrested, and the like," he concluded, removing his hands from the baby's ears.

She smiled and said, "But no one will know it's from our real life. Anyway, do you not like all the good things I wrote that parallels our real life? How about the expensive painting he bought her, just so he could start dating her? How about how sweet he was to her when her mum died, or the romantic way he recited his wedding vows to her, in a men's room?" These stories were comparable to things that had happened in their romance, only it was a book, her dad, and a woman's room.

"Do you really want to publish our story? Isn't it private? Shouldn't it stay between us?" Draco asked.

Hermione frowned slightly. "Listen, Draco, if it's that important to you, then I'll write something else. I won't hand this into my publisher. I'm serious." She took the manuscript and tossed it into the fireplace. He stood up in shock.

"Mrs. Malfoy, what the hell did you just do? I didn't tell you to destroy the bloody thing!" He went to the fire to try to retrieve it, but it was already too far-gone. He turned to her and said, "You're insane. That took you four months to write."

"But I thought you didn't want me to have it published," she complained.

"Since when have you ever listened to anything I've said? You've never respected my wishes before, so why start now?" He looked back at the parchment as it twisted and rolled and turned black from the flames.

She said, "Oh that was for dramatic effect. I have another copy. Scared you for a minute, didn't I?" She smiled widely.

"You're evil," he said.

"I learned from the best," she said back.

He made a sour face and looked down at his baby. He said, "Look here, Henry, your mummy is a mean, horrible woman and I'm not even sure I love her that much anymore."

"You love me," she said. She walked out of the room, swishing her hips back and forth. He followed her as she started to walk up the stairs.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and said, "Mrs. Malfoy, where do you think you're going?"

Instead of answering, she turned on the stairs and said, "Come here, Draco," and she wiggled her finger toward her.

"That's my line," he said and smiled.

"I can use it, too," she said shyly.

"Just tell me what you want," he said, "for I don't think I trust you."

"I want to make another baby," she said unassuming.

"What makes you think I do," he asked, amused.

"Just a hunch, I guess," she grinned. "Tell the nanny to watch Henry for a while, and then come join me upstairs. I'll give you ten minutes, and if you're not there at the end of the ten minutes then I'll find someone else."

"Who?" he asked.

"Whoever, maybe Scott, for he owns his own publishing company now. I could sleep with him and have him publish my books. It would be a win/win situation," she answered, running up to their room.

He shouted up the stairs, "I tell you, he really is gay. Plus, I think I once heard him say he thought you were ugly."

When she was completely out of sight, he went and found the nanny. He joined Hermione shortly, in their room. She was standing by the bay window, looking out toward the back garden. He asked, "Why aren't you naked and in bed, waiting for me?"

"Draco, come here," she motioned to him, as she continued to stare out the window. "It's starting to snow."

"So?" he said. He walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder. It did look beautiful outside, with the snow whirling around, coating the trees and ground in a lovely layer of white fluff.

She turned in his arms and put her head on his chest. She said, "Are you happy with the way everything turned out between us?"

"I never knew I could know such contentment," he leveled, kissing her forehead.

"Is this the perfect life you pictured?" she quizzed.

"Yes, I have to say it is, the only thing that would make it better is if you were naked and on the bed, as promised," he said, giving her lips a wishful kiss.

"Are you sure that's all that would make it better? Think really, really hard," she said, hesitantly.

He really did think for a moment, and then said, "Yes, I think that would make it perfect."

She put one hand on his face, and stroked it up and down, "Did you read the last part of my manuscript?"

"No, I hadn't finished it when you threw it in the fire," he reasoned.

She removed herself from his arms and went to her desk. She took out another copy and said, "Read the last part, after the epilogue."

"What, you wrote an epi-epilogue, or something?" he laughed. "How silly."

"I prefer to call it a postscript. Just read the last few paragraphs," she requested, opening the manuscript for him, and pointing at the sections she wanted him to read.

"That's sweet, the couple in your story ends up in their bedroom, and it's snowing, just like it is now," he said, as he continued to read. He read the last paragraph once, looked up at her, and read it again. He looked at her one last time and said, "Explain yourself."

"It's all there in black and white, what don't you understand?" she asked softly.

"It says here that the woman tells the man they're having another baby," he said, slowly understanding what she was trying to tell him. He said, "For goodness sakes, Mrs. Malfoy, can't you ever just tell me in a traditional way that we're pregnant?" He threw the book down, picked her up, and twirled her around.

He put her feet back on the ground and she said, "What fun would that be? So, are you pleased?"

"Of course. Henry's going to be a big brother. I always wanted to be a big brother. Do you know what it is yet?" he asked.

"Yes, I know, do you want to know?" she asked.

"Does Potter have a hero complex? Of course I want to know, don't be stupid," he said back.

"It's a girl. Isn't that perfect? A little boy and now a little girl, and I would like to name her Annabelle," she said.

"Don't I have a say in the name even?" he asked, holding her hands in his.

"What do you want to call her?" she asked.

"Annabelle," he laughed. She gave him a smirk and he said, "What? I've always wanted to name a baby girl that." He kissed her lips and then pinched her arm. It had become somewhat of a tradition. He would pinch her every once in a while, to make sure that she was real and not a dream. She was surprised he hadn't pinched her the moment he heard the news.

She said, "So, is it okay?"

"If it isn't, what could you do about it?" he asked, adding, "But, seriously, this is the best news ever. I love you so much." He put his hands on the sides of her face, and kissed her slowly and passionately. "If my heart hadn't changed before, then Henry and this new baby would certainly have changed it. Thank you, Hermione." He hugged her closely.

"For what?" she said shyly, pulling away from him and putting her hands on his chest.

"For loving me, and for giving me a family, and for showing me what a perfect life looks like," he said, and he meant every word.

They stood wrapped in each other's arms, with the bright light of the afternoon winter snow wafting all around them. If he thought his story was perfect before, and his happy ending complete, he was mistaken. It wasn't before, but now, it really, really, and truly was...The End.


End file.
